


Darkness of the Blood

by Misgel



Series: Darkness [3]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Megatron is a really manipulative bastard, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Natural Disasters, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, jack needs a break
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25650076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misgel/pseuds/Misgel
Summary: The Autobot-Decepticon War reaches its climax as a new, dangerous adversary enters the field, and an unforgivable crime is committed. A crime that Jack cannot forget.Now it is a race against the clock as the two factions compete to seize the dangerous and powerful Relics of Iacon. As the scales tip back and forth, natural disasters plague the Earth. Secrets are unveiled. An ancient evil awakens.Jack once again takes part in a war that is now his, as he watches the world around him fall apart. If he is to save all he loves, he must come to a realization: the War must end, or Unicron will destroy them all.
Series: Darkness [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/900843
Comments: 143
Kudos: 81





	1. Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! This is my third and final installment to my Darkness series! So for those who are coming across this for the first time, I highly recommend to go back and start with Darkness of the Soul, or you will be LOST. I try my best to recap, but it is impossible to cram two fanfictions into one chapter. So go read it now. Right now.  
> Back?  
> Good, carrying on. As I worked on two whole fanfictions before this one, this story is the most planned. I know where I want to take it, but as those returning know, expect slow updates. That said, a huge thank you to those that have followed me since the beginning of Darkness of the Soul. This has been an incredible journey and I’m so excited to give this epic conclusion to you.  
> For those old and new, I hope you all enjoy! Stay safe and healthy!

_All Jack saw was destruction._

_The empty shells of ruined buildings surrounded him. Nearly every window was blown own, leaving behind shards of glass that looked like jagged fangs. Black scorch marks had long replaced vibrant colors._

_Skyscrapers crumbled to the ground. Some leaned on others, as the cruel grip of gravity dragged them down. Some had long fallen into mountains of rubble. The broken streets were filled with abandoned and overturned cars. Faceless, mutilated bodies were left to rot._

_Rivers of molten lava flowed across the ruined land, churning and spitting, melting everything in their path. The bright, hellish glow combated against the impenetrable cloak of darkness. Twisted bolts of purple lightning streaked across the pitch-black sky._

_Then the world began to tremble._

_Great fissures stretched across the surface of the Earth. The air reverberated with the roars of shattering rock and transforming metal. Great, gleaming towers rose. Long and sharp and curved. Like horns._

_More and more appeared, splitting the planet apart. Like a vicious beast tearing at the walls of its prison. There were claws… then fangs. Limbs branched out into the vastness of space. Followed by an astronomical mass, as large as the Earth itself. Celestial wings unfurled._

_Then there was a monstrous, wicked roar. It echoed across the universe, promising death to even the farthest galaxies. It was filled with a furious hate, one that had been brewing since the beginning of time. And eons of resentment had only made it stronger._

**_I… AWAKEN…_ **

_Finally, Jack realized what he was seeing._

_The end of the world._

* * *

Jack screamed.

He shot up into a sitting position, desperately gasping for air. His body trembled, even as sweat coated his skin. The boy fought through the haze of disorientation to recognize the shadows of the room around him. After several long moments, he realized where he was. He was in his own private suite in the barracks of Cape Canaveral.

Jack sighed. It was just another nightmare. He had hoped they were getting better. Usually his dreams were based on the dark memories of his past, but this one was… different. It felt more intense. It felt more _real_. 

The teenager closed his eyes, trying push the graphic images away. He tried to steer his focus to something. The day’s date. What was the date?

Opening his eyes, he turned his gaze to the alarm clock set on his nightstand. He stared at the set of numbers until they were etched into his brain. It was only then Jack that remembered.

Mom was supposed to be cleared from the hospital today.

The realization came with a myriad of emotions: joy, excitement, relief, anxiousness, shame and _guilt_. It was _his_ fault that she was there in the first place. It took June Darby weeks to recover, after the bullet lodged in her stomach. The bullet that was meant for Jack’s skull.

Even after multiple surgeries, it took time for her body to mend the grievous wound. Longer still, for her to regain her strength. But her doctor, Gonzalez, the same man that treated Jack, determined she was strong enough to be discharged. 

Lieutenant Colonel William Lennox said he already arranged a room in the barracks for the both of them, so June could join her son. At least now, Jack no longer had to visit her at a certain hour for a limited amount of time. They wouldn’t be separated anymore. They could be a family again.

The thought was enough to elevate Jack’s mood, banishing the nightmare from his mind. He quickly untangled himself from the sheets. The dim light pouring through the shutters of the window told it was still early in the morning. Usually he would roll over and drift back to sleep, but he found himself alert and awake. The sooner he saw Mom, the better.

Making up his mind, he got up to get ready for the day ahead of him. Thankfully his suite came with its own bathroom, rather than the community one that the soldiers shared. Jack appreciated that Lennox had considered his privacy.

The teenager turned the knob in the shower, having a steady stream of water fall onto the tiled floor. He peeled off his boxers, shivering as the air-conditioned air bit at his bare skin. When several seconds ticked by, he cautiously stuck his hand into the jet of water to check its temperature.

Only for frigid needles to sink into his hand.

_"How about a_ _bath?"_

Jack cried out as the cruel, unwanted voice echoed in his ears. He recoiled from the assaulting water, only to violently ram into the sink.

_"Easy, now."_

The teen gripped the edges of the counter so tight that his knuckles turned white, trying to ground himself to reality.

_"See? I told you that you'll enjoy it."_

Jack desperately tried to banish the images that invaded his mind. Cruel hands clawing him, pulling him, _hurting_ him. Blades and sadistic instruments digging into his flesh. Laughter, even as he _begged_. Then there was the black, icy, _freezing_ water—

 _“Put him under_.”

Suddenly it was hard to breathe. The teenager panted heavily, trying to fill his air with lungs. His heart was hammering against his ribcage, like it was going to burst out of his chest. Something in Jack’s mind, something clinical, diagnosed he was having an anxiety attack.

_Calm down. You need to calm down._

He cycled through several breathing exercises, but none of them seemed to work. Then Dr. Gardner’s sharp voice pierced the haze of panic.

_“What street did you grow up on?”_

Pebble Road.

_“What was the next street over?”_

Hodge.

_“What was the one after that?”_

Keenan _._

With each question, the remnants of the visions faded. Jack’s body was shaking and his heart was pounding, but the sheer panic that had invaded his mind was gone. He let out a shuddering breath. The sessions were working.

For the past month, Jack had been visiting the psychologist stationed at the base. Rachel Gardner tended to soldiers that returned home, but brought the war with them. Like with her other patients, she taught Jack how to cope with his anxiety and post-traumatic stress. Sometimes, if the teenager was having a bad day, Dr. Gardner would make adjustments to her schedule to see him.

Usually Jack would be against the idea. He had never been interested in talking in a therapist about his problems. He preferred to deal with them himself, rather than be a burden to others. It was only recently the teenager became more comfortable talking about it. Because Dr. Gardner _listened_.

She never judged him, she never shamed him. She knew the horrors of MECH were still fresh in Jack’s mind. 

The paramilitary organization, led by its crazed leader, Silas, were obsessed with Transformers. They wanted the alien technology for themselves, as part of their mission to spread chaos. Then they found out there was dark energon running through Jack’s blood. And they wanted it.

Sweat sticking his raven-black hair to his brow, Jack glanced up at the mirror. Only for a stranger’s reflection to stare back at him. Pale scars of every shape and size littered his body. They crisscrossed over his torso, forming disturbing, abstract patterns across his skin. Most of them, Jack could conceal from prying eyes with multiple layers. Except for the long, curved mark across his cheek, right below his eye.

A permanent reminder of what MECH did to him. What _Marcus_ did to him.

A sadistic torturer that Silas had hired, tasked to unlock the secrets of Jack’s abilities. By any means necessary. He could still see the blood on his own hands. He could still feel the wetness, when he slashed the knife across Marcus’s throat…

Suddenly a wave of disgust washed over Jack, as if he was covered with a layer of filth. He retreated back into the shower. By now the water had grown warm, but not enough. He turned the dial as far it would go, until the water was _scalding_ , burning his skin. But it was much preferable than the cold. 

When Jack finally emerged from the shower, his white complexion had turned into a bright pink. He slipped on a pair of jeans and a black crew-neck T-shirt. He usually preferred long-sleeves for the brisk air-conditioning of school and the chilly nights of the desert. But in Florida, it was hot during the day _and_ the night. Usually the teenager wouldn’t mind, but it was a different kind of heat than Nevada.

Unlike the desert’s dry climate, the atmosphere of the East Coast was humid. The air was wet and heavy, almost _suffocating_. In Jasper, Jack could stand outside until the scorching sun became too much to bear. Here, the sticky heat would greet him like a slap to the face.

Jack left the confines of the bathroom, crossing the short distance of his room to snatch his cell phone. Glancing at the screen, he was greeted by several text messages. He wasn’t surprised that the first one came from Ratchet.

**Preceptor and I prepared another dosage for you. Come to Hanger E to retrieve it.**

Jack could practically hear the old Autobot’s bossy bark behind it. Rather than immediately answering it, he continued scrolling.

 **Hola!** Raf had texted. **I hope things go well at the hospital!**

 **Hey, how is everything with you?** Miko chirped. **Just don’t forget about us, okay? I only have two weeks left before I have to go back home!**

Jack cringed at the reminder. The end of her parents’ extension was drawing near. After the incident with MECH, Lennox had tried to put Miko in protective custody, along with the Darbys and Raf. But the Japanese embassy adamantly refused, arguing that since Miko was a Japanese citizen, it would be their responsibility to safeguard her. As a result, the spirited extrovert had spent the majority of her time in isolation. Jack felt a pang of guilt not visiting her more, but he had not had the luxury, between his visits to the hospital and his treatments.

Sure enough, his next text was from Dr. Gardner: **Hi, Jack. I have an opening for an appointment tomorrow at 9:00 A.M. Are you available to come in?**

The teenager pondered the proposal. He had already visited the psychologist earlier that week. Furthermore, her timing conflicted with another commitment. However, considering his nightmare and his anxiety attack that morning, Jack realized what was the responsible choice. He replied with his approval, and then opened up another conversation. This one was with his physical therapist.

After all the trauma Jack had endured, his body had weakened to the point he could hardly move. The military base provided him with a vigorous training program, focused on rebuilding his degenerated muscles. So far it was successful. Two months ago, the boy could hardly jog a few paces before running out of breath. Now, he could keep a steady stride for a whole mile. His next session was supposed to be tomorrow.

Jack sent a text, asking to reschedule. By the time he sent a brief reply to Raf and Miko, his trainer accepted his request. The boy decided to respond to Ratchet later. Once he replied, the medic would trap Jack in his laboratory, scrutinizing the human’s health like a science experiment. Usually Jack would humor the old Autobot, but not today. Today was about Mom.

With that in mind, Jack made his way out of his room. No matter how many times he walked through the halls of the barracks, he always felt like an outsider. A lone, lean teenager, walking by burly soldiers dressed in fatigues. More than once he could feel curious eyes boring into him, but he was left alone for the most part, and he was just fine with that.

Stepping outside of the dormitory-like building, Jack was greeted with two vehicles. Taking up almost two parking spaces was an all-black GMC Topkick 4x4. As broad as a semi-truck and jacked-up on massive wheels, it made an intimidating sight.

But Jack wasn’t frightened, giving the metal chassis a pat as he greeted, “Morning, ‘Hide.”

Ironhide only responded with a light growl of his engine. The boy then turned to the second vehicle. The sleek, azure motorcycle was dwarfed by the massive Autobot, but Jack knew she was so much more.

She was his guardian, his partner.

Arcee.

“Someone’s up bright and early,” the femme commented in a drawl.

“I want to see Mom,” Jack explained simply.

Arcee hummed. The motorcycle waited until he was settled in the saddle before she began to move. She rolled out of the parking lot and Ironhide followed, like a roaring, monstrous shadow.

“Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are watching her today,” Arcee reported as they pulled onto the main road. “No signs of unusual activity.”

No unusual activity. No signs of a threat against her life. No signs of terrorists. No signs of Megatron.

Just the thought of the Decepticon leader made Jack’s stomach knot. He could still see the fury burning behind those violet optics, right before Megatron jetted away. It was the last time Jack ever saw him.

The teen’s grip on the handles tightened. “Anything from the Decepticons?”

“Nothing. They’ve been silent ever since the fight in Chernobyl.”

“So I guess no news is good news?”

While Jack’s tone was hopeful, Arcee’s was cold and blunt as always. “I don’t think so, Jack.”

“Well, maybe Megatron finally took the hint. He didn’t look too happy when I rejected him.”

“That’s exactly why I’m worried. Megatron doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. When the High Council denied that he could carry the Matrix of Leadership, he tore Cybertron apart to find it.”

Jack’s stomach knotted, knowing it was true. Once Megatron dug his claws into something, he never let it go. He would never let go of Jack.

Swallowing thickly, the boy slowly, tentatively, reached towards the back of his mind, only for his mental fingers to brush up against a solid wall. It had been that way ever since Jack forced the Decepticon warlord from his mind and placed a seal over the blood-bond.

He thought he would feel a sense of relief, no longer hearing the whispers of Megatron’s dark, twisted thoughts. Instead, there was nothing but an empty void. It was why Jack preferred to keep himself busy, or else he could be crushed by the deafening silence. Without the brush of another’s presence, the teen felt terribly alone. Not even Arcee could fill the nothingness.

The guardian tried her best, being by her charge’s side whenever she could. They talked about nothing and everything. But not even Arcee could warm the frigid air between them. They would try to ignore it. They would avoid speaking about the unspeakable thing. But they both knew it was always there.

Too much had happened. Too much trust had been compromised. There would always be that third, menacing presence.

Jack could remember his return to Cape Canaveral all too well. The Autobots were demanding answers. How did MECH capture Miko, Raf, and June? How was June hurt? What happened to Jack? How did he possibly get from his hospital room to Chernobyl in an instant? Unable to come up with any logical explanation, Jack had no choice but to tell the truth.

He explained Silas had taken his family hostage and wanted to trade their lives for an Autobot. Desperate, the human had contacted Megatron, asking for the warlord’s assistance. Although Megatron was more than reluctant to save Jack’s loved ones, as the Decepticon cared little for human life, he was all too happy to dispose of MECH. Which he did, by taking on their artificial Transformer—Nemesis Prime.

The abomination was supposed to rival the might of Optimus Prime, but Megatron, the former Champion of Kaon, overpowered it. He destroyed Nemesis Prime, and Silas along with it.

It was only then Jack realized the truth. Megatron had not come to his rescue. He merely used the boy as a tool, to use against his enemies. And he succeeded.

MECH was gone.

Now there was nothing to stop the warmonger from destroying the Autobots and conquering the Earth.

When Jack finished recollecting his tale how he denied Megatron, how he refused to go with the Decepticon lord, he braced for the Autobots’ reaction. Shame, anger, disappointment. Instead, they said nothing. _Arcee_ said nothing. She had merely walked away. Jack didn’t see her for several days after that.

Just when he was convinced he would never see his partner again, Arcee came back, but something was different. There was an uneasiness to her. There was a tension in her EM field that Jack couldn’t break. It had been that way ever since, and even now.

Oh, how Jack wished everything would go back to _normal._ He desperately wanted Arcee to be his friend again—to go on drives with no destination, to be excited about seeing her, to partake in exciting, unpredictable missions. He wanted it all, from the comfort of his own home. Jack was even missing _school_ right about now.

But going back home was impossible. Megatron would find him there. If Jack went _anywhere_ , the tyrant would come for him.

Here, in the NEST base of Cape Canaveral, Jack could remain under constant supervision. Furthermore, it offered everything he needed for him and his mother. Lennox even offered to find tutors to homeschool him, and although Jack didn’t decline, spending his senior year in lockdown left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The teenager blinked out of his thoughts when a massive building came into view, with a bright red cross painted on its side like a shining beacon. Like every time Jack approached the hospital, conflicting emotions gripped his heart. He had enough experiences in hospitals to last him a lifetime, and none of them were pleasant. Furthermore, ever since his captivity by MECH, the boy had been far less trusting of doctors. But, it was the only chance Jack had to talk to his mother.

Arcee pulled into the parking lot close the main entrance, coming to a halt next to a pair of Corvettes. The sports cars were identical in shape and size; the only difference between them was their colors. One was a glaring yellow and the other was a bold red.

“Well, well,” the crimson car, Sunstreaker, commented. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You couldn’t find somewhere less _populated_?” Ironhide growled, referring to the countless cars surrounding them.

“It’s a triage facility,” Sideswipe retorted. “What do you expect?”

“Is Mom okay?” Jack asked, interrupting the arguing Autobots.

“Well, we can only assume she’s alright, considering we can’t exactly walk through the door. Nobody has come storming in, except that fellow—”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” the teenager interjected, slipping off of the saddle and towards the hospital at a brisk pace.

The interior of the building was filled with pandemonium. Doctors, nurses, and medical technicians hurried through the halls, some carting patients to one room to the next. It was a mix of soldiers and NASA personnel, mostly suffering from minor injuries or sickness. Despite a heavy Autobot and NEST presence, the residents of Cape Canaveral rarely saw combat. It was only because of its dense population that the hospital saw a steady stream of cases.

Jack was careful to stay out of the way of the chaos. After weeks of navigating the maze-like hallways, he knew the route Mom’s room like the back of his hand. The suite number was ingrained into his head. As a result, the boy made the complex journey in just a few minutes’ time.

He lifted his hand to pull the handle, only for the door to open by itself. Jack froze with a startled blink, only to be greeted by a familiar figure.

“Agent Fowler?”

The former liaison, now government agent, or whatever he was now (Jack wasn’t quite sure), filled the doorframe, effectively blocking the teen’s path into the room. The man was dressed in his crisp greyish-blue suit, not a single button out of place. His coarse black hair was neatly combed back. Then Jack noticed the bouquet of pure-white lilies in the agent’s hand. Something in the back of the teenager’s mind identified it as Mom’s favorite flower.

“Oh, um, Jack,” Fowler greeted with an awkward stutter. Noticing the boy staring at the bouquet in his hand, he quickly shoved it behind his back, so roughly a couple petals ripped free and floated in the air. The man’s dark skin suddenly turned into a bright pink. “Uh… hi.”

“This is Mom’s room,” Jack stated bluntly.

“Oh, it is!” Fowler made a show of looking at the bold numbers posted on the wall. “I was afraid I was in the wrong place.”

The boy only became more puzzled, until he peered past Fowler’s bulk. In the center of the room was a hospital bed. An _empty_ bed, complete with unruffled sheets and propped up pillows. The side tables were clear and neat. It was as if no one had been in the room at all.

“Wait, where’s Mom?!” Jack demanded at once, panic jumping into his throat as he tried to barge past Fowler. “She was just here yesterday!”

Instantly the teenager tried to find a logical explanation. Had he taken a wrong turn? Did he misread the suite number? No, this was certainly the right location. Was June already discharged? But Jack would have known if she left. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were still outside. At the very least, she would have called him!

Fowler must have noticed his frantic state, assuring, “I’m sure she’s fine. They probably took her to run some tests.”

“She’s supposed to be _leaving_ today!”

“Maybe they just want to make sure everything is alright before they clear her.” Fowler seized Jack’s shoulders, keeping him steady as the agent cooed, “Hey, just relax.”

“I’ll relax when we find her!”

“Okay, okay,” Fowler relinquished, letting Jack go. “I’ll go talk to someone. See if they know something.”

The man looked around, catching sight of a nurse down the hall. Fowler called out, even raising his hand as if he was hailing a taxi, but the woman was too distracted and turned away. With a disgruntled huff, Fowler hurried after her, lilies still in hand. Rather than joining the chase, Jack went in the opposite direction, towards the nurse station. Maybe someone there could help them.

There were several technicians posted at the quad, with a handful of patients hovering around the counter. Jack approached one nurse manning a computer.

“Excuse me,” he greeted, waiting until she tilted her head up in attention. “I’m looking for June Darby?”

The nurse was cooperative enough, only asking a couple inquisitive questions before typing in the necessary information.

The search took a few seconds before the woman reported, “Ah, yes. She was moved this morning.”

“Why?” Jack demanded.

The nurse shrugged helplessly. “They might have needed the space for more patients. I can give you the room number?”

“Yes, please.”

The teen shifted restlessly as she listed off the numbers, only to gap in disbelief, “Wait a second! That’s a whole different floor! I don’t even know where that is!”

“We can show you,” a new voice offered.

Jack turned to the source, only to see a pair of soldiers leaning against the counter. Both men were over a head taller than him and twice his weight. Both looked perfectly healthy, rather the other sickly soldiers that filled the hospital. Jack even failed to see the NEST emblem on their fatigues. Then again, the air force station housed more than just Colonel Lennox’s subordinates. They certainly didn’t _look_ like MECH agents.

“We were headed up there, anyway,” the other man added when the teen just stared suspiciously.

Jack eventually determined they must have been visiting a wounded comrade. In the end, it didn’t matter. There was only one person he came for.

“Um, sure,” he relented.

One of the soldiers nodded. Without wasting time, he took the lead in a long, purposeful stride. Jack scurried after him, while the second man trailed behind. The boy still didn’t see any sign of Fowler, but he didn’t worry about it. The government agent would most likely catch up to them, if he wasn’t making his way to June already. Jack’s guides led him to a lonely elevator, only to find a makeshift note posted on the stainless steel.

“It’s out of order,” the teenager read.

“Well, it looks like we’re taking the stairs, then,” one man shrugged. 

Jack groaned as he followed the soldier through yet another door, having no desire to walk up the steep steps. No matter how many flights of stairs he ascended, he was always gasping for thin air at the top. Last thing he wanted was to greet his mother, huffing and puffing—

The teen’s thoughts came to a grounding halt when suddenly a cold hand seized his shoulder. He was violently shoved face-first into the wall. Jack yowled as his head slammed against the solid concrete, pain radiating across his skull.

“Ah! Ow, what’s the deal?!” Jack cried, trying to turn around to confront his assaulter.

Only for the soldier to grasp his wrist in a vice grip. The boy winced as his arm was wrenched behind his back. And then cold, sharp metal bit into his skin.

“Jackson Darby, you are under arrest.”

“ _What_? What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything!”

Jack’s head spun, desperately trying to register the stranger’s words. Under arrest? Why? For what? He braced for the soldier to educate him, to remind him of his Miranda rights, but it never came.

Jack grunted as he was peeled off the wall, but rather than going _up_ the stairs, he was pushed _down_ the adjacent flight. Confused panic bubbled up his chest.

“What am I being charged with? What about my rights?!”

“You have the right to remain _silent_ ,” his captor obliged in a growl, thought he neglected the rest of the rite.

Not that Jack needed to hear the words to defend him, but it made him all the more anxious. Whoever these people were, they weren’t interested in due process. Were they MECH?

Just the thought struck Jack’s heart with frigid fear, so violently that it took a moment for logic to return. No, it couldn’t be. Whenever MECH captured him, they were careful to be _discrete._ They managed to ship him out of Diego Garcia, an entire island owned by the military, without so much of a whisper. Besides, the agents of MECH only followed the orders of Silas.

And the madman was dead.

So Jack was left with gnawing uncertainty as the soldier forced him down the stairs. The other took the front, holding him by the arm and keeping him steady. It didn’t make the descent any easier, Jack stumbling with each step. Being wedged between the two burly men and his arms restrained behind his back, he had a hard time keeping his balance. It certainly didn’t help that he resisted the whole way.

Jack desperately tried to worm out of his captors’ grip. At one point, both men simply plucked him up into the air and carried him the rest of the way. But rather than taking him into one of the main hallways, the soldiers corralled him into an empty corridor. _Away_ from the front of the hospital. Away from the Autobots.

“Where are you taking me?” Jack demanded. He tried to dig his heels into the ground, but the sleek tiled floor offered no purchase.

“Will you just _shut up_?” the soldier snarled.

The light, friendly he used before was all gone. Now both men wore a hardened mask, not even flinching at Jack’s furious howls. They half-ushered, half-dragged the boy through a pair of doors. Jack hissed as blinding sunlight assaulted his eyes. He had to blink in rapid succession to adjust to the glare, trying to scan his surroundings all at once.

They had emerged in an alleyway on the side of the hospital, out of sight of the main parking lot. There was not a single soul, save for a waiting pitch-black SUV. Waiting for _him_.

“No! Wait!” Jack wailed, trying to rip free from his captors’ hold.

But it was fruitless as the rest of his attempts, as the soldiers easily yanked him towards the dark vehicle. Jack spat and squirmed like a feral cat as he was stuffed into the backseat. Apparently there was already someone waiting in the interior, as rough hands pulled the boy into the car.

As the door swung close, Jack sucked in a breath and screamed as loud as his lungs would allow, “ARCEEEE!!”

Then he was sealed from the world.

Instantly the dark interior of the car began to press against, suffocating him. Threatening to bury him. The walls of the dark, confining coffin flashed before Jack’s eyes and panic washed over him. He wanted to flee, to escape, to _get out._

But it was hopeless. His arms were still cuffed behind his back, the door was locked, and strong hands were holding him down. He could only watch the hospital pan out of view as the vehicle drove away. He desperately searched for the bright colors of the Autobots, any sign that his vigilant guardians were coming for him.

But something that was all too familiar for him, no one came.

Did Arcee hear him? Did she care? What about Fowler? Did he know what was going on? Was he in on this?

The questions, along with so many more, buzzed in Jack’s head, but he knew better than to ask his captors. The soldiers were left behind, replaced by men dressed in sharp suits. Two sat in the front—the driver focused on the road and the passenger hardly sparing the prisoner a glance. The third sat beside Jack, staring at him warily, as if the boy was an alien creature.

It filled the car with tense uneasiness. At least it was a short trip.

They left the drab buildings of the base behind, only to pull onto one of the many runways that made up the air field. But rather than a gleaming space shuttle set upon a colossal platform, Jack was greeted with a smaller, sleeker vessel. It looked like a private jet.

His confusion only grew as the vehicle rolled to a halt next to the plane. He could the high-pitched roar of its thrusters, ready to take off. A fresh new set of question circled through his mind. He never had the chance to ask, though, as the door next to him suddenly opened and an cold hand seized his shoulder.

“Out.”

The prisoner obeyed, but it was awkward with his compromised balance. He was caught by solid arms before he could topple to the ground, only to be shoved towards the staircase leading up to the plane. However, Jack hadn’t even made to the first step when a figure emerged from the confines of the jet.

Immediately the teenager bristled, skin crawling at the face he never wanted to see again. He bared his fangs like a feral animal at the man that nothing more than to ruin him. And the Autobots.

“Galloway,” Jack seethed. “I thought I smelled a snake. I should have known you had something to do with this.”

The national security advisor’s sharp eyes behind wiry glasses reminded the boy of one in the grass. The president had chosen Theodore Galloway to replace Fowler as the government’s liaison to the Autobots. However, the man did everything in his power to keep a tight leash on the visiting extra-terrestrials. Sometimes Jack wondered if Galloway took the position merely to find an excuse to get rid of the Autobots.

“Oh, _I’m_ the snake?” the security advisor spat as he neared the captured teenager. “I’m not the one betrayed his country.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, drop the act, Darby. You’re not fooling anyone. Not anymore.”

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, utterly lost. “What act? You came all the way here just to arrest me? For what?”

“Let’s start trespassing on government property. And let’s end with _treason_.”

Jack’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped in shocked disbelief. “ _Treason_?! Are you _insane_?!”

“What’s insane is a sixteen-year-old boy would work for the enemy.”

The teen winced as if he had been slapped in the face. The blood drained from his cheeks as the accusation sunk into his stomach like a block of lead. Did… did Galloway know? About his time with Megatron?

Jack stuttered as he tried to form words, “I-I can explain…”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s necessary,” Galloway sneered as he reached into his pocket. “Because it looks pretty clear to me.”

The man pulled out a smartphone, fiddling with it for a moment before turning the screen to Jack. At first the boy was puzzled when he was shown a picture of a barren hallway. However, his confusion morphed into horror when he saw an image of _himself._ It was like looking at a surreal, moving mirror, as he watched himself cautiously creep across the corridor, his body rigid and alert. Fearful of being caught, even as he was weighed down by guilt.

Jack remembered that day clearly. The day he has snuck into the Pentagon and then hacked into the military network. He had no choice, or Megatron would have killed everyone he loved.

While Jack gapped like a dying fish, Galloway looked severe as he stuffed the smartphone back into his coat. 

“I don’t know about you, but I would like to call that being caught red-handed.” The security lowered his voice to a low growl as he drawled, “What kind of person betrays his own kind for alien metal? Your father must be rolling in his grave.”

Jack’s father. Johnathan Darby. A staff sergeant in the Army Rangers. A respected commander, who was loved by his comrades and his family. Until he was killed in a Decepticon attack.

Finally the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together into a horrible picture, and the army brat furiously shook his head in denial.

“No, no,” he refused, trying to step forward, but the grip on his shoulders kept him in place, “it’s not what you think—“

“ _Save_ it,” Galloway cut off. “I don’t know what the Autobots told you to make you their little errand boy, but I honestly don’t care.”

“ _Autobots_?” Jack even waited for the man to correct himself, but when Galloway’s scowl did not change, he gasped, “You can’t be serious? They are our _allies_!”

“That’s not the term that I would use. They are _assets,_ and yet they have caused us _nothing_ but trouble. They’ve been plotting to double cross us since the very beginning.”

“No, you’re wrong! They want to protect us! Earth is their home—“

“This is _our_ home!” Galloway yelled violently, advancing towards Jack until there was only an inch between them. “Ours, not theirs. We were here first. And when they arrived, they have brought death and destruction. Countless people have died, because of _their_ war. Well, not anymore. It’s time we take our planet _back_.”

Jack could only stare at the hateful rant, pleading quietly, “Galloway, just listen to me—“

“ _Shut up_. I should be throwing your skinny ass in federal prison. But I made a deal. Peace, for war prisoners.”

“War prisoner?” the teenager echoed. Suddenly that block of lead in his belly grew heavier. “What do you mean?”

It was then Galloway’s glare morphed into something even more disturbing. There was a gleam in his eye and his lips curled into a ghost of a smile. Jack’s stomach knotted. He had seen that look before. 

When he was in Silas’s clutches.

Galloway’s voice dropped with even the same sort of sick satisfaction as he vowed, “I’m going to end the war.”


	2. Hostile Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain. I don’t know if it was because I couldn’t think of dialogue for the life of me, or I based it on my least favorite scene from my least favorite Transformers movie. Nonetheless, I hope I gave it justice. Or, I should say, this is how that scene should have been.

Two and a half hours, and Jack determined it was the longest flight of his life.

His captors elected to keep his arms restrained, so it was impossible to find a conformable position in the leather chair. The prying eyes of the two federal agents assigned to watch him didn’t help, either.

Galloway had disappeared in one of the back cabins, and never came out. So Jack resorted to bothering his guards, peppering them with questions. What was happening? Where were they going? Why was Galloway doing this?

He was only answered with silence.

Jack continued to plead his case, even telling them his story—that Megatron had blackmailed him, sending him to the Pentagon in hopes he would get caught. The boy might as well had been talking to a deaf jury.

At long last, the plane began its descent. The white, fluffy clouds of the sky began to pull away, replaced by brown, rolling terrain. Jack squinted in confusion. Of all the places he expected Galloway to take him, it wasn’t the desert. At least now he knew he was somewhere in the west. Still, there several desolate states. The teen doubted Galloway was taking him back to Jasper.

The security advisor had called him a war prisoner, and said something about some kind of exchange. A trade? For what? For who? Oh, how Jack hated this. His fate was in the hands of strangers, and he didn’t even know what it entailed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a jarring impact, signaling the plane had landed. Looking out the window, Jack recognized an air field, not unlike the one at Cape Canaveral. Except this one was occupied with armed soldiers and a fleet of military jets. However, Jack didn’t recognize several of the models. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t like the army bases he grew up on.

The plane hadn’t even rolled to a stop when the federal agents pulled Jack to his feet. They shoved him outside the moment the door opened, so roughly he almost went tumbling down the stairs. The glaring sun did not make his awkward descent any easier. Then Galloway finally emerged, strutting like a peacock.

“Welcome back to Nevada, Darby,” the government liaison announced. He must have noticed Jack curiously eying his surroundings, as he went on, “We like to call this place Homey Airport. Or, you probably know it as Area 51.”

For a split second, the teenager thought he was joking. Of all the places, Galloway brought him _here_? He was being arrested for his contact with the Autobots, only to be brought to alien central.

Miko would be jealous. The exchange student had been harassing Jack to take her to the top secret base as long as he remembered, something he adamantly refused. As a military brat, he didn’t see the appeal driving hundreds of miles only to see a lonely gate. He didn’t believe the stories, anyway. But there was must had been something up, if Galloway dragged him here instead of throwing him into a federal prison.

“Oh, you’re going to show me where they put the bodies?” Jack quipped, his voice laced with false excitement.

Galloway only scoffed, “No, but I do think I should give you a history lesson. You see, this place was originally built by Sector Seven.”

“Well, that explains a lot.”

“After they would reverse engineer the Transformers’ technology at other facilities—”

“You mean when they _tortured_ Cybertronians,” Jack interrupted venomously.

The security ignored him, continuing, “—they would bring it here to conduct tests and figure out to implement into our own designs. The U-2, the A-12, the M-21—”

“So basically the whole alphabet?”

“—were all built _here_. You are standing on decades of achievement.”

“Does this story have a point?” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes. Although he was able to recognize the odd names of the military jets, Galloway’s zealous rant bored him.

The security advisor didn’t seem hindered as he snapped, “Yes, it does. The United States is the greatest military power in the world. We’re on top because we have _their_ weaponry—which Optimus Prime has taken from us.”

“Optimus didn’t steal your stupid toys. He made you stop hurting his people. How would you like it if they started dissecting humans just for the hell of it?”

“I would be pretty upset, considering it’s already happening. They have been tearing our people apart since they got here. And now we have _nothing_ to defend ourselves. Not against our enemies, not against _them_.”

“But the Autobots are on our side!” Jack protested. “They fight for us, to protect us from the Decepticons!”

“Then why would they leave us vulnerable?!” Galloway demanded in a yell, making the boy flinch. “Unless they were planning an invasion?”

Jack shook his head, unable to believe the man’s words. And he thought Silas was insane. But unlike the bitter and disgraced ex-SEAL, the government advisor was corrupted by a different kind of ideology—patriotism.

“No, you’re wrong,” Jack pressed. “You don’t know anything about the Autobots—”

“You’re right, I don’t know them. But I know that if we don’t act now, then humanity is finished. So I’m doing my part. To _secure_ our _future_.”

Galloway ended his speech with firm conviction. His dark eyes were blazing with a disturbing mix of determination and hatred. Looking into that gaze, Jack _swore_ he saw a trace of fear. It was only then he realized—that the man was beyond the voice of reason.

But he wasn’t like Megatron or Silas. The government officer was something even more unpredictable.

Not far away from the plant was a huge convoy of vehicles, made of a mix of black SUVs and armored Hummers. They were surrounded by a swarm of people, either dressed in flashy suits or full combat gear. The sharp contrast between the two groups was enough to give Jack a headache.

Yet Galloway didn’t seem fazed, walking up to a man at the head of the large mass. He stood tall and proud like a commander standing before his troops. It vaguely reminded Jack of his father, but Dad was never so intimidating.

The stranger was made of solid muscle, appearing two—maybe three—times larger than the teenager. He looked like he could effortlessly body slam Jack into the ground. The nasty scars across the side of his face made him even more rugged and the boy found himself squirming underneath that cold stare.

Galloway demanded impatiently, “Major Burns, are we ready to go?”

“Yes, sir,” the military commander confirmed.

“What? We’re not staying?” Jack questioned.

“Oh, we’re passing through,” Galloway explained, before turning back to Burns. “And the prisoner?”

“Secured and ready for transport.”

“Good.”

The exchange threw Jack for a loop. Prisoner? Were they talking about him? Before he had the chance to come to any conclusions, Jack once again found himself stuffed in the back of a SUV. Only this time, Galloway was sitting next to him. The teenager inched away from the man as far as possible, and thankfully it seemed that Galloway didn’t want to have any contact either. And so the air between them was filled with silence, save for the rumble of engines as the convoy began to move.

Headed to whatever fate had in store for him.

* * *

They drove out into the desert. The buildings of the base were replaced by rolling mountains, shielding them from any prying eyes. It strangely reminded Jack of when he would ride Arcee across the salt flats outside Jasper.

But at least then, Jack knew his destination. At least with his partner by his side, he knew he was safe. Right now, he didn’t feel so safe.

He was surprised when suddenly Galloway glanced at a GPS monitor and called out, “Stop here.”

The teenager blinked. But they were in the middle of nowhere! Jack even scanned his surroundings again, only to confirm that there wasn’t another building or soul in sight. Even the driver seemed perplexed, but did as he was told and slowed to a halt. The rest of the convoy did the same, dust rising from tires as they skidded across the dry ground.

Almost immediately, soldiers began to pour out of the armored vehicles, weapons in hand. As if they were forming a perimeter in hostile territory. Suddenly Burns appeared at the door, opening it without warning and taking hold of Jack’s arm.

“Get out,” the man growled, pulling the prisoner out of the SUV.

Jack could only yelp as he unceremoniously crumbled onto the desert floor, only for his captor to pull him back to his feet.

“You know, this could be so much easier _without_ the handcuffs,” he seethed as the metal bands bit into his skin. Locked in the same awkward position for _hours_ , his shoulders ached and his arms trembled. It was getting harder and harder to regain his balance.

“Quiet,” Burns ordered. He scrutinized their surroundings, eyes narrowed in a skeptical glare. “He’s late.”

_He?_

Then Jack’s eyes widened as a powerful, _familiar_ rumble echoed across the sky. But it was no thunder. Suddenly his blood turned to ice and his knees buckled. He would have collapsed to the ground if it wasn’t for the strong hold forcing him to stand. The dread residing to his stomach rose to his chest, threatening to suffocate him.

No… no, it couldn’t be.

As if the universe was mocking him, the roar of thrusters grew louder. Galloway smiled as he glanced at his Rolex watch.

“Actually, he’s right on time.”

Right on cue, a dark, sinister shadow fell over them, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Jack tilted his head towards the sky, squinting at the bright sun until he saw a flash of silver.

“Megatron,” he gasped under his breath. He stared at the Cybertronian jet, waiting for it to disappear like another desert mirage. When it didn’t, Jack rounded on Galloway, yelling over the roar, “What is he doing here? What did you do?”

“What Optimus Prime and General Bryce weren’t willing to do,” the security advisor snarled. “I’m negotiating for peace.”

“Have you lost it?! He doesn’t want peace! He wants to kill us all!”

“Oh? If that’s the case, then why did he arrange for this meeting?”

Jack didn’t have a retort for that. _Megatron_ orchestrated this? But that didn’t make any sense. The Decepticon lord would _never_ deal with humans. Ever since his awakening, he kept his distance from humanity and destroyed any poor fool that came too close. If anything, Megatron wanted them suffer like he had.

Jack could only watch helplessly as the massive flyer continued to spiral down towards the ground. He didn’t like it. The teenager had seen Megatron effortlessly drop miles from the sky, but for whatever reason, the warlord's descent was slow and cautious. Was it to avoid startling the anxious humans? No, that wasn’t it.

It was a show of superiority. A display that _he_ owned the skies. That this meeting would be on _his_ time.

Finally, Megatron transformed in a flurry of shifting plats, landing on the ground in a practiced crouch with a resounding boom. He rose to his full height with predatory grace, gleaming like the Burj Khalifa in the Arabian Desert. He stalked forward in a long, purposeful strides, wearing an inscrutable expression.

Jack’s heart quickened. He decided seeing the stoic mask was more frightening than Megatron’s furious scowl. He caught sight of several men—both agents and soldiers—shuffle at the sight of the titan, despite that Megatron was still a football field away.

And then _another_ shape appeared from behind the mountains. It moved quickly and silently, even the growl of an afterburner. Jack’s racing heart jumped in his throat while Burns squinted at the sight of the predator drone.

“One of ours?”

“No,” Jack answered.

Soundwave transformed to land beside Megatron with a quiet thud. Despite his smaller stature, the Decepticon managed to stay by his master’s side. Somehow the presence of the faceless third-in-command filled the air with even more uneasiness. Even Galloway seemed nervous. Only Major Burns didn’t seem intimidated. 

The man took an offered rifle from a nearby soldier. He balanced it in his hands, as if testing its weight as he observed the weapon. When he seemed satisfied, he cocked the weapon. The noise was enough to draw Galloway’s attention, who glared over his shoulder at Burns.

“Our goal here is to make a _peace_ treaty,” Galloway reminded the major. “Not to go all guns blazing.”

Burns grunted. “Have you ever fought a Decepticon, sir?”

“No…”

“Yeah, well I have.” The major turned his head to display his scars. “And one thing I learned is that you can’t put down your guard around them. If they make one wrong move, we put them _down_.”

Galloway only rolled his eyes and shook his head at Burns’ hateful rant, but he did not interfere when the major raised his hand in a silent order. Immediately a line of soldiers formed between the convoy—no, _envoy_ —and the aliens. When the pair neared, the humans raised their weapons. Jack stiffened at the aggressive action, bracing for Megatron to retaliate. Instead, the Decepticon leader merely raised an optic ridge.

“Oh? This is hardly a fitting welcome for a gathering of peace.”

“A security precaution,” Galloway explained. “At least until we come to an agreement.”

“We have already come to an agreement, dear Galloway. That is, unless you take back your word.”

Megatron ended with a dangerous, warning hiss. Thankfully Galloway reacted accordingly.

“Oh, no, I intend to keep mine,” the liaison reassured. “Only if you stick to yours.”

Megatron narrowed his optics by a fraction. It was a sharp contrast to Optimus Prime. The Autobot leader would crouch low to the ground, making himself look as small as possible. He would speak to the tiny humans in a quiet and soft voice.

Megatron did no such thing. He _towered_ over the envoy, his frigid shadow blocking out the warm sun. He looked down upon them as if they were insects. Jack couldn’t tell if Megatron was debating to listen to Galloway or squash him as the man began to pace. Towards Jack.

The teenager started when Galloway called him out by name, “Just look. I’ve brought Jack Darby, as you requested.”

The boy’s skin crawled as Megatron’s intense glare bore into him. It was like the one the warlord gave him in the empty ruins of Chernobyl. Jack could still hear Megatron’s dark vow, _"You belong to me. And I will make sure to remind you of that."_

While his expression was severe, his voice was filled with fake concern as he gasped, “Why is he restrained?”

“Protocol,” Galloway told simply. “We are required to restrain him as part of his arrest.”

“He is a child, not a prisoner. Release him.”

Jack recognized that it was an insult. Megatron _knew_ he hated being called a child. And it was obvious that the warlord didn’t consider him a threat.

Galloway frowned at the request, but he turned to an awaiting agent and waved a hand. The agent obediently stepped forward, fishing into his pocket and producing a key. Jack couldn’t help but let out a content sigh as the metal cuffs fell away, relieving the pressure on his shoulders. He unconsciously rubbed his joints to rid the soreness, but he could do nothing about the angry red marks around his wrists. The reprise didn’t last for long, however, as a solid hand planted itself between his shoulder blades and sent him stumbling forward.

Galloway caught him by the upper arm, bringing him close. Jack cringed as his personal space was invaded, especially the man hissed in his ear, “I consider myself a reasonable man. I’m giving you a chance to make something good out of your life. You can end this war.”

The teenager could only stare, the words utter nonsense. End the war? What was Galloway talking about? What could _he_ do?

It was then Jack realized.

This wasn’t a negotiation about peace. This was a negotiation about _him_.

Galloway arrested him. Megatron requested him.

The Decepticon warmonger had ruthlessly hunted Jack for _months_. He ordered the raid on the American embassy in China. He had ripped apart an Insecticon. He completely leveled MECH’s base and destroyed their artificial Transformer. Wherever Megatron went, he left a path of destruction in his wake. He didn’t want to end the war at all.

Megatron wanted Jack.

“Galloway, please, you have to listen to me,” the army brat hissed at the security advisor, hopefully low enough that the Decepticons couldn’t hear. “You’re making a mistake—”

Without warning, the wall over the blood-bond broke.

It was like a dam giving way as a cascade of darkness flooded into his mind. Jack crumbled with a strangled sound as his rational thoughts were drowned out by the rush. He instinctively tried to retreat to the back of his mind, only for the darkness to chase after him and tackle into his consciousness, pinning him down. Sharp, phantom claws dug into him and Jack almost cried out. Then a dominating presence reverberated across his mind, replacing his free will with its own.

 ** _You will be silent_**.

It wasn’t until the pressure on his skull resided to a numb ache that Jack gave a gasp of breath. He was hardly aware that he was practically leaning on Burns for support. Stars danced across his vision and there was a piercing ring in his ears.

Galloway’s voice was muffled as he continued to speak, “As you can see, Lord Megatron, I’ve kept my end of the bargain. Where’s yours?”

“You’ve only brought the boy,” Megatron retorted, as if he wasn’t devoting half his processor to suppressing Jack’s thoughts. He narrowed his optics, scanning over the horizon, as if he was looking for a missing figure. “Where is my asset?”

“It’ll be here, don’t worry. In fact, I offer an exchange.”

“Exchange?”

“You can have Jack Darby, for free. You hand over the weapons, and then I will release the asset.”

Even with Jack’s muddled mind, Galloway’s words were like a slap to the face. He spoke as if the boy wasn’t even present. As if he was just an object, like a doll being sold at the market. And it made him feel cheap and used.

Galloway didn’t see him as a prisoner at all. Just something to trade so he could get what he wanted.

Jack didn’t even have the chance to fall into despair, his thoughts were suppressed by the darkness when Megatron let out a vicious growl, “That was not our agreement. Relinquish your prisoners, and I will show you our weaponry.”

“And that still stands. Just consider it as diplomacy.”

“Do not tell me what to think, human.” In his building rage, Megatron demanded in a near bellow, “Now where is my asset?”

The line of soldiers shifted their weight, but managed to stand their ground in front of the towering beast. Burns glanced at Galloway, twisting his hold on his rifle.

“You will see it,” the liaison promised. “Once I see my weapons.”

There was a flare of violence over the blood-bond, the only warning before Megatron’s fusion cannon came to life with a sinister hum. Before Jack could work up a shout, he fired, right at an unoccupied SUV. The vehicle disappeared in a ball of flame. Every person present let out startled shouts as the shockwave slapped them in the chest and the ground trembled beneath them. Some were knocked off their feet while others scrambled away.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Galloway cried, raising his hands in peace.

But Burns would not have it, raising his voice with authority, “Open fi—“

Only for his command to be cut off with a high-pitched, grating noise. It was like a thousand nails dragging across a chalkboard. But only worse. Screams rose up again as the awful sound assaulted sensitive eardrums. Jack clapped his hands over his ears, nearly doubling over in agony.

Peering through squinted eyes, he saw Soundwave had stepped forward, his visor flashing as he mixed together frequencies at an impossible rate. Only Megatron didn’t seem fazed by the audial attack, likely because he shut off his receptors in anticipation. Or perhaps this was their plan all along.

It seemed like an eternity until the sound finally ceased. The ringing in Jack’s ears had returned with a vengeance. He tried to straighten, but with his equilibrium compromised, he could only wobble like a drunk penguin. Looking around him, he saw Burns and Galloway weren’t any better. Nearly every soldier and agent had dropped their weapon in the haste to cover their ears. Blinking in disorientation, no one was paying attention to the looming giants.

That was until Megatron thundered, “I will not ask again!”

Burns’ confident, aggressive attitude was gone. His stern, chiseled face had fallen to a horrified look, realizing his army had been incapacitated in a matter of seconds. Galloway was practically shaking in his Gucci shoes.

“O-Okay! Okay! I can be flexible!” he rambled. “We’ll bring it out! It’s fine!”

Megatron growled from deep within his chest, the sound reverberating through the air. Pinned by the warlord’s scathing glare, Galloway turned to Burns, giving a short order.

“Make the call.”

“Are you crazy?!” the major snapped.

“Just. _Do_. It.”

Galloway enunciated each word as he glared at Burns over his shoulder. The military commander was torn, looking between the Decepticons and the security advisor. It appeared as if he was debating to fight or retreat. Then, finally, Burns realized he had no choice but to obey his command.

He let out a low growl before he ripped a radio from his belt, demanding, “Bring it out.”

 _Bring what?_ Jack wondered.

Before he could ask, a distant rumble echoed across the desert valley. It sounded like an engine, but… _alien_.

The army brat scanned the surrounding horizon, trying to find the source. At first, all he could see were mirages rippling across the salt flats and hazy mountains, until he noticed a plume of smoke in the distance. No, not smoke. _Dust._

Squinting, Jack could make out two armored vehicles, complete with a manned turret. With a colossal vehicle looming behind them.

 _Is that a_ tank _?_

It certainly wasn’t one like Jack had ever seen. Its treads dug into the ground far faster than it should have been able to. Hoisted on top was a gigantic, broad barrel with antennas attached. The chassis was made up of deep purple plating, looking like a dark specter against the bright sun. As it drove closer, Jack noticed there was a second pair of trucks trailing its rear. Whatever it was, the military was not taking any chances.

At the sight of the ominous tank, several of the men around him fidgeted anxiously. Galloway swallowed thickly. Burns’ glare was scalding, like he wanted to melt the entire tank into a molten puddle. The only one that seemed pleased was Megatron. His snarl turned into a shark-like grin and his optics brightened in excitement as the strange vehicle neared. The new convoy slowed at it approached the group of humans.

The Hummers didn’t even come to a full halt as the tank transformed. With the churning of gears and clanking of metallic plates, the alien vehicle morphed into the most terrifying Cybertronian Jack had seen.

The mech was _huge_. He was almost as tall and broad as Megatron, made of the thick, bulky armor. One arm ended with a clawed servo and the other was made up of the massive cannon. A cable hung from the weapon to attach to the mech’s back. But that wasn’t the most disturbing of all.

He didn’t even have a _face_. Just a single, unblinking optic.

And then Jack saw the Decepticon sigil upon the stranger’s chest.

 _“Shockwave,”_ Megatron purred.

He spoke the name in Cybertronian, but Jack was able to translate it easily enough. Shockwave. Where had he heard that name before? It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. One of the ‘Bots war stories? They told so many, it was impossible to match every one with a Decepticon. Jack tried to stifle through the collection of tales of each Autobot, but it was difficult with Megatron’s mental weight still pressed against him.

_Bulkhead? No… most of his stories are about blowing stuff up._

Upon noticing his lord and master, Shockwave lowered his helm, avoiding optic contact.

_“My liege, please forgive the state of my condition.”_

The mech’s voice was grating. It sounded like a demon possessing a broken fax machine. Yet unlike most Cybertronians, there were no inflictions in the complex series of whirrs, buzzes and clicks.

_Ratchet? There was that one story, how he got captured… Was it about Shockwave? Or Lockdown?_

_“Why haven't you terminated the humans responsible?”_ Megatron demanded.

 _“The Autobot Ratchet deactivated my weapon systems,”_ Shockwave answered matter-of-factly.

The warlord growled in distaste.

“English, please,” Galloway barked, eyes darting back and forth between the two chattering aliens.

“My apologies,” Megatron huffed gruffly, “I was merely asking my subordinate if he has been treated fairly.”

“Fair enough,” Galloway shrugged. “Now, can we move on with business?”

Glancing at Shockwave confirmed that the Decepticon was _not_ treated nicely. There were scratches all along his frame. There were a couple patches of dried energon, staining his murky plating. Whenever Shockwave moved, there was a low groan of protest emitting from his gears.

Megatron must have noticed, sending Galloway a short glare as he rumbled with dark possessiveness, “Only if you return what belongs to me.”

“Very well,” the security adviser accepted, already turning around. “Burns?”

The major looked _more_ than reluctant, his jaw clenched. However, he eventually ground out, “Stand down.”

 _Bumblebee? Oh, who am I kidding?_ _Optimus doesn’t talk about the war, either…_

The turrets aimed at Shockwave turned away with unwilling groans. Before they even had the chance to fall into their new positions, the Decepticon lumbered forward. As he stepped towards his comrades, there was no greeting, no embrace, no celebration. Shockwave only quietly stepped into Megatron’s shadow.

_Arcee. She told me how she got to Earth, after escaping Starscream and—_

Jack’s heart froze. 

Oh, no…

Eyes going wide, he turned to Shockwave.

 _The_ Shockwave.

The one who captured Arcee and Cliffjumper. He interrogated them, trying to find the coordinates to Earth. The Autobots barely managed to escape using Shockwave’s own spacebridge. Only for the Decepticon to follow them, joining Starscream in his search for Megatron. Yet Arcee insisted she was lucky.

Very few encountered Shockwave and lived. The Autobots had told countless horror stories. How he would obliterate enemies upon the battlefield with a single blast from his cannon. How he would torture his victims with wicked machines. How he would dissect his patients underneath his scalpel.

He was the warlord’s head scientist and chief engineer, leading all of the Decepticons’ scientific endeavors. He was chosen as Cybertron’s Lord Protector during Megatron’s interstellar travels, ruling the planet with an iron fist. Shockwave was the only one that was feared more than Decepticon leader himself.

Jack didn’t even know how humanity captured Shockwave, but looking over his fearsome frame, the boy realized. People had _died_ fighting this monster.

And Galloway was _releasing_ him.

Before Jack could work up another protest, the security advisor nudged him forward. “Now your turn.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” Jack retorted, grounding his heels into the sand. Galloway glared.

“Remember what we talked about. By doing this, we can leave our mark on _history_.”

“No, you’re wrong—”

The argument was interrupted when impatience flared across the blood-bond, slicing Jack’s thought in half. Replaced by a dark presence.

**_Come to me._ **

Jack grounded his teeth as the command consumed his mind. He tried to shove it away, but he might as well have been trying to bench-press a mountain.

Over the monstrous roar resounding in his head, he could hear Megatron’s voice, laced with sweet poison, “It is alright, little one. You are safe now.” Then, with a twisted smile, he added, “The Decepticons will take care of you now.”

**_You will obey._ **

“No,” Jack whined, so low it was barely audible.

The pressure within his skull increased. Jack shivered as Megatron’s scorching glare bore into him.

He knew there was no point in resisting. He belonged to the Decepticons. 

The army brat blinked at the intrusive thoughts. He almost let out a scream as he felt a _second_ presence, cold and unwelcoming against his mind.

 _Soundwave_.

The telepath’s consciousness wrapped around him, sending chills crawling up and down his spine. While Megatron smothered his thoughts, Soundwave played with the ones that remained. His mid sandwiched between the two Decepticons, Jack almost fell to his knees. 

**_Do what you are told._ **

He would do what he was told.

_I-I won’t…_

The pressure morphed into excruciating pain, making Jack wince. A hand flew to his temple, as if trying to hold his head together. It felt like it was being split apart.

**_You are mine._ **

He was Megatron’s.

Jack didn’t even register that he had taken several steps forward. He blinked out of his trance only to realize he had wandered away from the group of humans. Towards the towering Decepticons.

“That’s it,” Megatron grinned. “Soundwave will take you back to the ship.”

At his summoning, the third-in-command stepped forward. There was the quiet _clinking_ of gears as he knelt, extending a servo. Jack tried to turn away, but the telepath would not allow it.

Everything would be alright once he was with Soundwave.

Jack didn’t remember walking to the Decepticon. Suddenly Soundwave’s open servo appeared before him. All Jack wanted was to move away, to flee. But his body could no longer bear the battle of wills within him. His trembling knees collapsed underneath him, sending him falling. Right into Soundwave’s clutches.

The dark storm raging in his mind rumbled like distant thunder. It finally rolled away, the icy winds following it. But the damage to Jack’s psyche had been done. He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. The world around him was muffled and the light of the sun was blinding, filling his vision with white. He managed to decipher Soundwave’s thin fingers curling underneath him, scooping him up with strange tenderness. The world started to sway in long strokes. Soundwave was walking.

Then a voice drifted in and out of Jack’s hearing, but it was far away, “—with him?”

“—oy is still recovering from trauma,” Megatron’s low growl explained.

“What trauma?” That was Galloway.

“I’m sure Optimus will explain it to you.”

“Bullshit!” The curse was harsh and guttural. Major Burns. “He was perfectly fine five minutes ago!”

There was a hiss from Galloway, but Jack couldn’t make it out. Soundwave had shifted his hold so the boy leaned against his chest. The metal was cold and quiet. Laserbeak was asleep.

“I say this with respect… have you lost your damned _mind_?!” Burns continued to rant, likely turning his frustration towards Galloway. “They’re lying to us! They literally call themselves Decepticons!”

Suddenly there was an echo of dark intent and something twisted in Jack’s chest.

Megatron interrupted the argument, “Do I know you, human?”

There was an awkward pause, followed by Burns’s startled squeak. “Huh? Me?”

“You.”

“Uh… No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you certain? I never forget a face.”

Judging by Burns’s timid stammers, Jack determined he was at the mercy of Megatron’s intense glare. If Burns responded, the army brat wasn’t sure, as a powerful hum reverberated across the air. The hair on the back of Jack’s neck stood on end as a cloak of energy wrapped around him. Cracking open his eyes, he saw white, green, and blue hues dancing across Soundwave’s armor.

A groundbridge.

There were several gasps and shouts from the humans, but Megatron did not pay them any mind. His attention was solely on Burns.

“Ah, yes, I _do_ remember you,” Megatron exclaimed, but his menacing hiss sounded far from friendly. “You were _there_. At my _prison_.”

Suddenly Burns’ authoritative tone was gone, replaced by uncertain panic. “I, um, think you have the wrong person.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. You _watched_ as your so-called scientist ripped my frame apart! You _took_ the weapons that were stolen from me!”

Several of the humans must have flinched back when Megatron’s growl rose into a ferocious boom. But instead of running in fear as Jack expected, he could hear Galloway's shout as the man stepped forward.

“Speaking of _weapons_ , what about the ones you promised?” the liaison insisted, like he was desperately trying to change the subject.

“Ah, I suppose I did offer a display, now did I?”

Megatron’s voice shifted to a dangerous purr at that, one Jack was all too familiar with. One that promised pain and suffering. The boy felt Soundwave’s fingers stroking down his spine. Comforting. _Distracting_.

“Consider it a _retribution_ ,” Megatron continued. The storm of darkness was beginning to brew again, electrified with growing fury and resentment. “For all decades you spent _hunting_ us. _Desecrating_ us!”

There was a sinister roar as the Decepticon leader’s fusion cannon came to life. There were several startled squawks, the loudest coming from Galloway.

“Wait, wait, wait! What are you doing?!”

“Something I have waited for a very long time.”

There was the unmistakable sound of discharge of a cannon, following by a chorus of gunshots. Yet it could not drown out the dying screams that followed Jack as Soundwave stepped into the vortex of the groundbridge. And even as it snapped closed, he could still hear the echoes of Megatron’s maniacal laughter. 


	3. Shockwave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter I am much more satisfied with. I briefly mentioned this in the first update, but I start virtual classes next week, so I will have less time for my writing. The next couple chapters are written, but updates may become slower.

Fire burned across the desert sand, having filthy, black smoke rise into the dry air. Long, deep grooves and blackened craters scarred the earth itself. Structures that were once bulky vehicles were now darkened shells filled with crimson fire. Some lay in shambles, unrecognizable. Bits of flesh, some more whole than others, were scattered across the ground.

Humans were truly were _nothing_ compared to the might of the Cybertronians.

The whole world would know that, after today. Optimus Prime would realize his horrid mistake, depending on such weak creatures to fight his war. Victory would belong to Lord Megatron.

The Decepticon leader stood tall and proud, his metal plating bristling to make himself twice as large. Not even a single scratch had appeared on his silver, pristine armor. The same could not be said for poor Shockwave, marred with surgical scars and less defined marks of torture. His optic was dim, a sign of malnourishment, and his engine made a strange, low noise, likely damaged or malfunctioning.

However, the Decepticon loomed over the destruction, his plating swelled and his claws curled. It was the only signs of pleasure, of _satisfaction_ , that the stoic scientist would ever show. And his revenge against his captors had yet to be complete.

Megatron heard a low, tiny moan amidst the carnage—the exhale of a breath. Of a human still alive. His craned his helm down, and a wide, cruel smile spread across his lips.

It was that wretched vermin—Galloway—still kicking, it seemed. The representative’s ripped clothing was ruined with soot and blood—either his or another’s. His skin was not much better, covered in sweat with his hair plastered to his face. He was crawling across the ground, either injured in the chaos or paralyzed by fear. The fleshling froze as two dark shadows fell over him.

Galloway flipped himself over, only to meet blazing, hellish red optics. His body immediately began trembling and his eyes went impossibly wide. His mouth gaped, opening and closing several times like had forgotten how to speak. Megatron was patient.

Finally, a whimpering, stuttering, high-pitched voice came out, “Th-this—this wasn’t part of the deal.”

_“This wasn’t part of the deal!”_

Even when pleading, Jack had sounded stronger than this miserable fleshling. Megatron could smell his fear, over the scent of melting metal and charred flesh.

“You assured me you would hand over what belongs to me,” he explained calmly, even as there was a nearby explosion as the fire reached a vehicle’s fuel tank. “And you have. Our deal is complete.”

The look on Galloway’s face was almost comical. “B-b-but you promised us _weapons_ —”

Megatron let out a deep, rumbling sound, making the insect flinch violently. Obviously, he could not tell a growl from a laugh. The tyrant flashed sharp denta, baring them like a predator over prey.

“Oh, dear, Galloway, I _never_ promised you _anything_.”

The trembling increased and somehow those dull eyes went even wider. The full-grown human let out a high, undignified sound that grated Megatron’s audios. This pathetic creature was nothing like his Jack.

Even when facing cold reality, Galloway seemed lost in his own world, begging in a string of rapid words, “P-p-p-please, _please._ You d-don’t have to do this. J-j-just let-t me go, we can still wor—work something out.”

“A tempting offer,” Megatron admitted, even nodding along. He relished how the foolish human’s eyes lit up with hope—such a stupid concept. “However, I believe my _lieutenant_ has his own saying in the matter.”

With that, he stepped aside, allowing Shockwave to take his place. The Decepticon lifted his pes, its dark shadow casting over the shivering human.

Galloway wailed with horror.

“ _NO_ —”

The scream was cut off when Shockwave’s pes slammed into the ground with a _crunch,_ similar to the sound of an ant being crushed by a boot.

Megatron’s smile broadened, the orange glow of the flames reflecting off his finish as he looked upon their work with sadistic glee. Now that was taken care of—

The Decepticon lord turned to his lost lieutenant, speaking in Cybertronian, _“Were you able to learn anything from our…”_ He thought for a moment to search for a word, mocking, _“… **hosts**?”_

To his great delight, Shockwave nodded immediately. _“When they linked their systems to my internal hard drive, I was able to reverse hack into their files and download their databases.”_

_“What were you able to recover?”_

_“Mostly research, centering on Cybertronians. I collected a great deal of profiles, on both Autobots and Decepticons. I also recorded every communication the facility sent and received. With Soundwave’s assistance, I may be able to trace them to strategical locations.”_

Yet again the scientist proved he could always be relied upon. Even when at the mercy of the enemy, Shockwave had put the Decepticon cause before himself. The Autobots thought they were being clever, stealing Megatron’s most prized engineer from him, unaware Shockwave was engineering their destruction.

 _“It is good you have returned to us, old friend,”_ Megatron purred happily, reaching over to clap his ancient ally’s shoulder. Of course, Shockwave did not react, but the dictator did not mind. _“For you are just the tactical advantage I need.”_

The Decepticon scientist tilted his helm in a small bow of humbleness. Not wasting any more time, Megatron sent a request for a groundbridge. Soundwave had closed it to prevent any humans from following him (and to stop Jack from escaping). It took a moment longer than usual when the communications officer replied with an affirmative, attached to a short message.

Jack was upset.

Megatron scoffed, predicting as such. He would make sure to deal with the boy. When a groundbridge yawned opened before them, the pair of Decepticons did not hesitate to step through, leaving the ruins of the battlefield behind. They walked into the dark corridors of the _Nemesis_ , only to be greeted with furious screeching.

“You murdering _bastards_! I hope you all go to the _Pit_!”

Soundwave was having trouble holding onto a rambunctious Jack, the human wrestling against the Decepticon’s grip. Apparently Jack didn’t register the fact that a fall from his current height should surely kill him. Soundwave looked to Megatron, as if pleading for help.

The warlord raised his servo and waved his claws in a silent order. Soundwave instantly handed the boy over, Jack letting out a yelp as his handler all but dropped him into Megatron’s palm. Before Jack could reorient himself, the tyrant closed his talons around his captive. Jack gasped as all the air was squeezed out of his lungs. Megatron waited until his vicious shouts faded into pathetic wheezing until he loosened his hold.

“Are you going to behave?” Megatron asked as Jack loudly sucked in a breath, only to go into a coughing fit.

It took several seconds for the human to regain himself, and even then, his voice was weak and raspy as he croaked, “Get… fragged…”

Shockwave’s antennas tilted back at the derogatory insult. _“He is quite insolent.”_

Jack growled at his direction. Megatron chuckled.

 _“Careful with your words, Shockwave,”_ the Decepticon leader advised. _“Dear Jack understands our tongue.”_

The scientist’s optics brightened with interest at that. He fixed the boy under his stare, a crimson hue washing over him like a searchlight.

 _“How is that possible?”_ Shockwave asked.

 _“Likely a side-effect our connection,”_ Megatron hypothesized.

_“You have bonded with the human?”_

_“Only by blood. Jack and I have dark energon within our veins.”_

Instead of displaying any sort of surprise, Shockwave lectured, _“Impossible. Dark energon in its natural state is highly unstable. It is a degenerative substance, to Cybertronians and organic beings alike.”_

_“As previously believed.”_

Megatron was amused when Jack unconsciously squirmed when he realized Shockwave had turned his attention to him. The intimidating mech tended to have that effect on Autobots and Decepticons alike, even though their apprehension was unnecessary. Shockwave wasn’t one to harm others. At least, not without Megatron’s command.

 _“He would make a fascinating case study,”_ the scientist rumbled.

Megatron almost laughed. It seemed Shockwave’s traumatic experience hardly soured his curiosity for science. He was always coming up with another question to answer or another invention to build. Always tampering with creation.

Judging Jack had calmed enough, Megatron turned to his chief engineer, extending his servo.

 _“Be gentle with him, Shockwave,”_ the Decepticon leader ordered. _“I want him whole.”_

He then dumped Jack into the scientist’s awaiting hold. Automatically the human’s eyes practically bulged out of his skull.

“What? No!” he protested, but it fell on deaf audios as Shockwave’s claws curled around him.

 _“So be it. Thank you, my liege,”_ the Decepticon accepted graciously.

_“Consider it a ‘welcome home’ present.”_

“W-wait a second!”

Jack was again ignored as Shockwave already began to move away, headed towards the _Nemesis_ ’s laboratories. As the Decepticon retreated into the darkness, Jack’s cries became louder and louder as fury was replaced with fear.

“No, no! Let me go! Please don’t do this!” the human rambled, ending with a desperate wail, “Megatrooon! Don’t leave me! _Please_!”

As Jack’s erratic emotions bubbled over the blood-bond, Megatron threw up a barricade of useless code. But it was too late, as a sliver of the boy’s terror slipped through his defenses. It was enough to send the warlord’s processor reeling. He resisted the urge to shiver.

Megatron stamped down the invasive thoughts, scoffing at Jack’s irrationality. He placed great confidence in Shockwave. His former surgeon would never harm his pet. Yet as Jack’s pitiful sobs continued to echo through the _Nemesis_ , Megatron found it difficult to ignore the gnawing at his spark.

* * *

Jack was trembling with rage, fear, and panic. The three mixed together in a whirlwind of emotions. So many horrible things were rising in his chest, pressing against his lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. But none of it equaled agony of betrayal that stabbed his heart.

He was betrayed by the US government, by _humanity_ , that saw him as no more than a bargaining chip. He was betrayed by the Autobots, who once _again_ had abandoned him. He was betrayed by Megatron, who left him in this stranger’s clutches.

Shockwave’s servo wrapped around Jack like a cage, holding the boy tightly to his chest. The human could feel his sick spark pulsing, its vibrations coursing along the metal. While the beat of Megatron’s spark provided a strange sense of comfort, Shockwave’s did no such thing. It was unfamiliar and unnerving.

Jack couldn’t understand. How could Megatron just _leave_ him? The warlord ruthlessly pursued him for months. He had _massacred_ an entire envoy, just so he could have Jack to himself. Only to give the boy to Shockwave, like he was just a toy to play with. And it filled Jack with _hurt_.

 _"Do you think he values you? That he thinks you are special?"_ Airachnid’s ghost taunted.

The boy shuddered at the echo of the memory, of when the Insecticon had kidnapped him and used him as bait for her woven trap. The femme was long dead—Arcee had snuffed her—yet her ghost continued to haunt Jack. He struck his own head, as if to knock Airachnid out of his mind. Only for her violet, compound eyes to linger, his only company in his dark prison.

Jack didn’t even know where Shockwave was taking him. Peeking through the gaps between the Decepticon’s claws, he only saw the black walls of the _Nemesis._ They seemed never-ending until Shockwave came to a door. Then the mech sighed.

Before Jack could deduce what was wrong, he let out a yelp as his cage was suddenly tilted. One of the bars of his prison moved away, allowing an arm to spring free, only to dangle in the air. After a disorienting moment, he realized what Shockwave was doing, as he heard the light beeps of a door panel.

The Decepticon had loosened his hold on his prisoner so he could use a claw to unlock the door. Jack still in servo. The teenager unconsciously found himself trying to scramble for purchase, clinging on to the purple metal that was the only thing between him and the floor far below. By some miracle, Shockwave managed to input the code without dropping him.

The door split apart with a hydraulic hiss, revealing a dark room beyond. When the scientist stepped through the threshold, alien fluorescent flickered on. Jack’s heart jumped to his throat.

He recognized he was in some sort of laboratory, filled with metal slabs, complex machines, odd tools, and even a couple consoles. It reminded him of Knock Out’s med bay, but this place was more… sophisticated. It made Jack’s skin crawl. He didn’t have very fond memories of the labs aboard the _Nemesis_.

He remembered screaming in fear and pain, begging for mercy that never came. There was only dark chuckles and sneers, before the world fell away. Replaced by the horrors of his own mind. Was Shockwave going to put him in the cordial psychic patch, too?

The Decepticon revealed nothing as he walked over to an empty berth, depositing Jack onto its surface. The boy fell in a tangle of limbs with a wheeze.

 _“Wait a moment,”_ Shockwave ordered. _“I need to refamiliarize with the laboratory.”_

He wandered away towards a nearby console. With a few taps along its keys, the screen came to life, filled with Cybertronian script. Shockwave’s twin antennas tilted back.

_“And its files.”_

Completely ignoring Jack’s existence, the chief engineer began typing away. He was surprisingly fast with only one servo, his cannon hanging by his side. The human watched with mild fascination, not even noticing a dark figure until it stepped into his vision. He jumped at the sight of Soundwave.

Where did he come from? The mech was so silent that Jack didn’t even hear him walk in. But the communications officer wasn’t paying him any mind, instead crossing over to Shockwave. Soundwave tapped at a particular nasty scratch along the scientist’s pauldron.

Shockwave seemed to understand his comrade’s meaning, assuring, _“I have functioned with worse injuries.”_

Soundwave stared.

There was a huff of ventilations. _“I will contact Knock Out to assist me.”_

Soundwave nodded in approval.

The exchange hurt Jack’s brain. He knew Cybertronians weren’t as expressive as emotional humans. Yet watching two faceless mechs communicate efficiently with nothing more than touches and looks, was beyond the boy’s realm of comprehension. Shockwave and Soundwave must have known each other for a very long time.

Jack vaguely remembered that Shockwave was one of Megatron’s first followers. Along with Soundwave, the Champion of Polyhex was that inspired by the rebellious words of his fellow undefeated gladiator. Now it was starting to make sense why Megatron went so far to reclaim Shockwave. When Breakdown had been captured by MECH, the warlord refused to come to his aid, believing the ex-Wrecker had to face the consequences of his own failure.

Apparently the same did not apply to Shockwave.

Jack was brought out of his musings when the scientist suddenly announced, _“I wish to conduct a test on the organic.”_

The boy’s blood became cold. There was another look from Soundwave.

_“Just a scan. Until Knock Out arrives.”_

That seemed to be enough for Soundwave. He relented, stepping aside. Giving Shockwave a direct path to Jack. As the titan neared, the human scrambled away. Whatever the scientist’s intentions were, he wanted nothing to do with it. Shockwave’s servo reached out. Jack ducked out of its hold.

“Stay away from me!” he snarled. He shivered at the sight of those deadly claws.

He was being irrational. Shockwave wasn’t going to hurt him.

Jack hissed. “Get out of my head, Soundwave!”

Only if he agreed to cooperate.

Cooperate?! How was he expected to cooperate, after watching this monster slaughter at least dozens of people?

He did not watch. Soundwave made sure of that.

“It still happened!” Jack shrieked.

Once again he recoiled from Shockwave’s touch. By now, the scientist was getting irritated.

 _“Hold still,”_ he barked.

 _“No,”_ Jack retorted in Cybertronian, backpedaling until he was standing on the edge of the slab.

It was alright. He had no reason to be afraid.

He had _every_ reason to be afraid.

He was safe.

Jack didn’t feel safe.

The teenager swatted every intrusive thought away, all the while dodging Shockwave’s impatient swipes. Eventually he couldn’t do both at the same time.

Jack let out a shout of protest as Shockwave’s servo swallowed him whole, pushing him down until he was flat on his back. He instantly struggled, trying to worm out of the mech’s fingers. When the hold didn’t relent, he began pounding at metal around him, aiming his fists at the gaps of armor.

“Let me go!” he yelled.

 _“Are all humans this spirited?”_ Shockwave asked.

Finally, Soundwave spoke, his echoing voice quiet and calm as he explained, “Human: traumatized. Cause: recently tortured.”

The scientist only hummed in understanding. _“Secure him for me.”_

Soundwave stepped forward. Preventing Jack from escaping, the surveillance officer intertwined his fingers with Shockwave’s, so when the scientist pulled away, Soundwave still had a firm hold. The telepath whispered to Jack’s mind the entire time.

The Decepticons were not MECH. They would never hurt a youngling.

“You’ve already hurt me!” Jack refuted venomously, continuing his squirming.

Where was he going to go, anyway? He was locked in this laboratory, miles in the sky.

“Anywhere that’s away from you!”

 _“Soundwave, I need him still for conclusive results,”_ Shockwave told.

The statement only made Jack wiggle more. Finally the ever-patient Soundwave had enough. So busy with his desperate struggles, the teenager did not hear the distinct _click_ of data-cables being released. He let out a startled yip when metallic tendrils wrapped around his leg. But he didn’t have the chance to protest.

Suddenly white-hot pain shot up his spine. All the muscles in his body seized up as electricity coursed through him, robbing him of all his motor functions. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t _breathe_. He could only flop upon the metal slab like a fish out of water.

It felt like an eternity before the electrocution finally stopped. Jack heaved, desperately trying to refill his burning lungs. Black dots danced across his spinning vision. He was barely aware of a bright light washing over him, along with a rumble of Cybertronian. He could only register Soundwave’s cold thoughts invading his mind.

That was only a low voltage. Not nearly enough to cause damage. But if he continued to make a fuss, there would be worse.

“What happened to you weren’t going to hurt me?” Jack growled.

That was merely discipline.

Jack scoffed. He was still twitching from the aftermath of the electric shock. Through his blurred vision, he noticed Shockwave had wandered back to the console. The scientist extended a wire from his wrist, plugging into the machine. Jack gasped as an image of _himself_ appeared on the screen. He could only watch as every fiber of his being was being translated into Cybertronian glyphs as Shockwave read his biometrics.

“ _Fascinating_ ,” the Decepticon purred. _“The dark energon has integrated into the host down to a molecular level, yet the cells are completely intact. I have never observed an interaction such as this.”_

Without Jack’s permission, he could hear what Megatron had said to him, so long ago, _"It's a part of you, now. Not just in blood or in your heart, but the darkness of your soul. It cannot be removed.”_

He couldn’t deny it anymore. The Dark Energon was a part of him. _Megatron_ was a part of him.

Jack closed his eyes. He suddenly felt drained. Between the arrest and the mental manipulation and the electrocution, he could no longer keep the heated energy in his voice, “Stop it, Soundwave.”

The third-in-command merely tilted his visor at the human, noticing Jack was no longer struggling.

He was tired, the Decepticon observed.

More like emotionally exhausted, Jack corrected. Once they stopped spasming, his muscles felt heavy and sore. His mind was a fog, making his thoughts more and more unclear. At this point, he didn’t even know which ones were his own.

He needed to sleep.

That was Soundwave, Jack decided after a moment. Yet he couldn’t seem to push the frigid order away.

Unable to move his limbs, he could only curl in on himself. He was faintly aware of dull fingers rubbing along his back, but he couldn’t protest the gentle treatment. Instead, Jack surrendered to sweet unconsciousness.

* * *

Jack woke up in a warm cocoon. A bed? No. Rather than the soft, light cotton of sheets, the material around him was smooth and heavy. He shifted to investigate, only for agony to erupt along his skull.

Jack seethed as the pain rolled down his spine. It felt like he had been beaten with a baseball bat. Or worse than that. Like he had been beaten by MECH thugs. Was he…? No, that couldn’t be right. MECH was gone, he remembered.

The army brat hesitantly opened his eyes, only to be greeted with unfamiliar black walls. He flinched with disorientation until the memories came rushing back. Jack’s throat tightened.

He was aboard the _Nemesis_ , in Shockwave’s laboratory.

As if on cue, the Decepticon scientist's voice reverberated through the air, _“You’re awake.”_

Jack turned his head, noticing Shockwave was posted at another console. A cable was attached to the back of the mech’s helm, stretching to a port on the mainframe. Alien script rolled across the screen, but even with Jack’s limited knowledge, he had no idea what it meant.

“ _Ugh, I wish I wasn’t,”_ Jack groaned, cradling his throbbing head.

Looking down at his body, he saw that a mesh blanket had been draped over him. Now that his initial panic had dissipated, he could feel the chill of the air biting his skin. He shivered, bringing the blanket over his shoulders. Soundwave had probably given it to him. The teenager couldn’t see Shockwave being concerned over his well-being.

 _“You are uncomfortable,”_ Shockwave rumbled. He said it so flatly, Jack honestly couldn’t tell if it was a question or not.

Uncomfortable was one way to put it. His head was pounding in a migraine headache. Every muscle in his body was screaming with pain. His chest was tight. And although his thoughts were clearer, Jack felt sluggish. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep. Maybe it would provide an escape.

After a moment, the boy answered hesitantly, _“Yes.”_

_“Is that a common symptom of your bond with Megatron?”_

It was a random question, one that Jack never thought about. Their mental link rarely affected him physically. Well, other than they could share each other’s pain. It was only after the worst of the episodes, when Jack would lose his free will completely, that he would feel weak and sore. But usually he would be more focused on trying to recollect everything horrible he had done while he was under. He could only remember bits and pieces, and even those fragments of memory scared him. Jack hadn’t lost himself this time, not completely. But then again, he never had his mind torn apart.

 _“Um… no,”_ the teenager decided on after a moment of thought.

 _“Hmm.”_ There was a moment of silence, save for the hum of machinery and Shockwave tapping on the workstation. Then the scientist remarked, _“Your Cybertronian is crude, but comprehensible.”_

_“Er, thank you?”_

No one ever really commented on Jack’s Cybertronian before. It seemed to excite Megatron, who was eager to teach him more of the language. The other Decepticons seemed to not care or forget that he could understand their tongue. The Autobots, on the other hand…

Jack’s musings were interrupted when the door of the laboratory hissed open. He was greeted with a brilliant, shiny flash of red, followed by a suave, haughty drawl, _“Oh, what do you know. You are alive, Shockwave. I guess this is what I get, believing Starscream of—AH! What are you **doing**?!”_

Knock Out’s rant was interrupted by a horrified scream, his crimson optics going wide and bright as headlights. Shockwave merely glanced up from the screen.

_“What is it?”_

The medic let out a very un-Decepticon squeak. _“You opened up your hard drive? Without me present? Are you **crazy**?!”_

Rather than replying to Knock Out’s panicked shrieking, Shockwave’s voice was monotone as ever, _“It is a common procedure.”_

_“Not on **yourself**!”_

_“The humans infected me with their malware in their feeble attempts to hack my data files. It is required I remove them to allow my processor to work at an efficient rate.”_

_“Fascinating. Truly,”_ said Knock Out sarcastically. Then as his voice rose into a furious yell, _“Next time, **wait** for my assistance!”_

_“Your assistance was not required.”_

The medic completely ignored Jack, and the human was just fine with that. He had sat up to watch the argument, his head pivoting back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match. Knock Out marched over to Shockwave and he had to balance on the tips of his pedes just to reach the mech’s optic. Although the engineer was not as tall as Megatron, he was larger than the lithe Aston Martin. Knock Out hardly seemed intimidated, jabbing a sharp finger at Shockwave’s broad chest.

_“I’ll have you know that I have been Lord Megatron’s Chief Medical Officer aboard this ship—“_

_“And **I** was his Chief Surgeon at the Pits of Kaon,” _Shockwave interrupted, his optic becoming brighter as it fixated on the aggressive medic.

_“Oh? And how much did that help you when you were captured by the humans?”_

_“I was **deceived**!_” Shockwave nearly roared, twisting around in a blink of eye. Knock Out shrunk with a squeak as the large mech looked over him. _“Starscream reported that human facility was clear. Only when I arrived, it was occupied with a fully-armed security force and the Autobots!”_

_“In my defense, I had nothing to do with that…”_

_“No, you were on the other side of the planet, ignoring my hails!”_

_“You called me? Huh, never saw that…”_

There was another dangerous growl of an engine, sounding like a semi-truck slamming into a wall. The terrible sound made both Knock Out and Jack jump.

 _“How about I make it up to you?”_ the sports car told hastily. He pointed at the screen, which was apparently showing all of Shockwave’s inner workings, offering, _“I can help you with… er, that. Then I can fix you up, buff out your armor, give you a new paint job… You’ll be good as new!”_

Stuck on his platform, Jack could only stare at the quarreling Decepticons. It was apparent that Shockwave’s resentment stemmed deeper than just the humans. But rather he believed he was betrayed but his own kind.

Jack couldn’t say he was surprised. Starscream’s attempted execution for treason was still fresh in his mind. The vile Seeker was always plotting how to overthrow his master, how to take all the power for himself. He was successful, for a time.

Jack was starting to realize why, as he pieced the story together. Acree mentioned that Shockwave was one of Megatron’s top lieutenants. The only one that equaled his rank was Starscream, the head of the Decepticon’s military force. There was no doubt that the exiled Vosian prince disliked sharing power with another. Jack still wasn’t sure what exactly happened, but it was obvious that Starscream got rid of Shockwave as soon as he could. Only to blame it on the Autobots.

Jack had witnessed firsthand that when the Decepticons weren’t fighting their mortal enemies, they turned to stabbing each other in the back. He held his breath, wondering if he was going to see another roundt. There was a long, tense moment. Then Shockwave relaxed, moving away from Knock Out. 

_“Your proposition... sounds logical,”_ the scientist decided.

Knock Out let out an audible sigh of relief. Still, he hesitantly stepped beside Shockwave. As Megatron’s top doctors, Jack expected them to work quickly and efficiently. He expected them to work in near silence, depending on each other’s expertise. The reality couldn'.

They bickered every step of the way. One would give an order, only for the other to contradict it. Even after they removed all of the human viruses from Shockwave’s system, Knock Out had to practically wrestle him onto the medical berth. The crimson mech insisted that Shockwave needed surgery, starting with his noisy engine. Yet when Knock Out went to hail Breakdown for assistance, the head scientist refused to have the “clumsy Wrecker” operate on him. Then he denied being put into stasis.

 _“Deactivating my pain receptors should be efficient enough,”_ Shockwave insisted.

_“No, it is not efficient enough!”_

_“I won’t feel anything, doctor.”_

_“Well, I don’t like operating on a patient who’s staring at me!”_

Shockwave got his way, eventually. Much to the dismay of Knock Out, who plugged into the scientist’s medical port. The medic was rigid with anxiety as he input a string of code. Then after gathering a plethora of tools, Knock Out began.

Jack had seen plenty of surgeries. He was the son of a nurse, so he and his mother would often watch medical dramas on TV. They would sometimes make a game about how accurate the shows really were. However, he realized he never witnessed a Cybertronian surgery.

Jack only saw Ratchet treat superficial wounds. If more was required, the grumpy Autobot would either kick the teenagers out of the base or bring his patient into a back room. Decepticons didn’t seem to have the same sense of privacy. Watching the operation was both fascinating and grotesque. 

Knock Out removed the plating obstructing his way, piece by piece with careful, surgical precision. Once Shockwave’s exoskeleton was out of the way, exposing the silverish protoform, the medic began to cut. Bile rose in Jack’s throat as the sounds of tearing mesh drifted through the air. Yet Shockwave never made a sound. There was no shriek of protest, no yell of pain, no strained whimper. He only observed Knock Out with an unwavering optic, even as the medic meddled with his innards.

The pair only spoke with Cybertronian medical jargon, saying words that Jack couldn’t possibly translate. He didn’t know how long the surgery lasted. He dozed off at one point, only to awaken to Knock Out welding Shockwave’s wounds back together. The medic reattached his patient’s armor, and any piece that couldn’t be salvaged was disposed of and replaced.

Then he moved on to cosmetics, which was more to Knock Out’s liking. He began buffing and polishing every inch of Shockwave’s frame. By now, the scientist was getting restless.

 _“How much longer do you plan to dawdle?”_ he snapped.

 _“Hey, do you want it done, or do you want it done **right**?” _Knock Out retorted.

With a reluctant groan, Shockwave allowed the stylish mech to continue. It wasn’t until his chassis was smooth and spotless that Knock Out pulled away with a huge smirk of victorious satisfaction.

True to his words, Shockwave looked like a completely different mech. The marks of abuse were erased from his frame, his single optic glowed as bright as a beacon, and his engine rumbled quietly. His purple plating, though still a deep color, was no longer dull, but rather gleaming underneath the alien fluorescent lights.

 _“Not bad, if I do say so myself,”_ Knock Out chirped happily.

 _“I admit, you are quite competent in your craft,”_ Shockwave admitted as he slowly rose off the berth. 

_“Oh, Shockwave, is that a compliment?”_

_“Merely an observation.”_

_“Such a flatterer.”_

By now Jack had grown bored. Between the surgeries, the bickering, and the detailing, it had been _hours_. The teenager had spent it in and out of a restless sleep. He supposed it was better than having Shockwave’s dreadful optic pinpointed on him, but sitting in the same spot for such a period of time made him more sluggish than he already was. Jack yawned, rather loudly.

Realizing his mistake, he snapped his jaw shut, but it was too late. Both Decepticons turned to him.

“Well, well, well,” Knock Out drawled, switching to English as he noticed the human prisoner. “Look who came crawling back.”

“Not by choice,” Jack retorted.

“That’s funny. As many times as you visit, I’m starting to think otherwise.” The boy’s cheeks flushed crimson as that, pulling his lips back in a snarl. It only seemed to encourage Knock Out to continue, “Maybe you _like_ being rescued by the Big M.”

“He _kidnapped_ me!”

“Like he ‘kidnapped’ you from MECH?”

The statement was like a slap to the face. Jack flinched, violently. He turned away from the mech, but he could still feel Knock Out’s pleased optics boring into him.

 _“I would prefer if you did not harass my subject,”_ Shockwave spoke, like Jack’s self-esteem wasn’t already battered. The scientist spoke as if he was merely an object. He shivered with nervous fear when Shockwave added, _“There are still several tests I need to conduct.”_

 _“Oh, don’t get your wires in a twist, Shockwave. We’re only having a friendly chat,”_ Knock Out whined.

 _“We are **not** friends,” _Jack interjected.

 _“Your services are no longer required,”_ Shockwave declared bluntly. _“Leave.”_

_“But I was just starting to have fun…”_

The chief engineer _glared_. Knock Out clearly received the silent message, raising his servos in peace. He began to back away in cautious steps.

It wasn’t until he was out of Shockwave’s reach that he twisted around towards the door, muttering under his breath, _“Such a sore sport. No wonder the Senate dumped you…”_

But Jack and Shockwave heard him clearly. The large Decepticon let out a _savage_ growl, lunging towards an unsuspecting Knock Out. He cleared the distance between them far faster than a mech his size had a right to, seizing the medic by the back of the helm. Knock Out let out a dramatic yelp as he was practically tossed into the nearest wall. Jack jumped at the loud clang of metal on metal, followed by Shockwave’s snarl as he slammed his weight against the smaller mech. 

Yet despite his armored flaring in rage, his voice was cold as ever as he spat, _“I was not removed from the Senate, but rather my political rivals tarnished my reputation to the point I was forced to resign.”_

 _“Oh, right,”_ Knock Out mumbled absentmindedly, even as his face was being crushed against the wall. _“I forgot politics is a touchy subject for you.”_

 _“I take offense to **inaccuracies** ,” _Shockwave corrected. _“Which led to my exile to Kaon!”_

There was a terrible groan of metal as the gigantic mech leaned more of his chassis against Knock Out. There was a whine as the Aston Martin as he struggled to vent. Thinking quickly, he babbled, _“Hey, look at the bright side! That’s where you met Megatron, and er, Soundwave. Now you have your own laboratory, you can do whatever you want…”_

_“Unlike you, Knock Out, I did not join the Decepticon cause solely for my own benefit.”_

And just like that, Shockwave pushed off of the medic. Knock Out gasped both in relief and to recycle fresh air into his systems. Yet he did not move, pressed between the wall and his attacker. Shockwave leered down at him.

_“Leave my laboratory.”_

Even with his monotone growl, there was no room for denial in his room. Not that Knock Out needed it. Whimpering like a kicked puppy, he dashed out of Shockwave’s shadow. Jack only saw a red blur slipping out of the doorway. Leaving him alone with the mad scientist.

His mind spun, trying to process everything he had just seen. Shockwave was nothing like the other Decepticons, who were driven by resentment or vengeance or hatred. No. The Lord Protector was only driven by cold, hard logic. He had spoken with Soundwave with only a few words. He almost killed Knock Out, who spoke too much. He slaughtered the humans that freed him. He spared the one that he kept prisoner.

Jack remembered what Arcee had said. That even before the war, Shockwave was the most revered and most feared scientist on Cybertron. All for a single reason.

He was unpredictable.

And that made Jack afraid.


	4. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this has probably been the most chaotic first week of school of my entire life. I was told it would be all virtual. I was lied to. Some classes are online, some classes are on college campus, some are both, and some are nonexistent. Somehow, I managed to finish and edit this chapter.

_“Tens of thousands of people are feared dead after Haiti was ravaged by a 8.2 magnitude earthquake, the largest to ever be recorded in the Caribbean. Relief efforts are already underway, with dozens of nations sending their report, as the island country prepares for tropical depression Albert, which is expecting to make landfall next week…_

_“In further breaking news, today the President announced he has fired national security advisor Theodore Galloway. The statement reads that Galloway did not prioritize the safety and protection of the country and…”_

“Snuffed by Megatron and fired by the President in the same day?” Simmons sniffed. “I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard.”

“I don’t,” Epps huffed.

Lennox only grunted at the sight of the news anchor on the computer monitor. The woman looked flawless, not a single hair out of place or a single blemish on her skin. Even as she reported the news, her clear eyes shone with ignorance. It was obvious that she was merely reading a teleprompter. For her, it was just another story to report, another battle in the war of politics.

She had no idea how heavy the truth really was.

Lennox’s grip on his arm tightened until he could feel his blunt nails digging through his jacket. What was Galloway _thinking_? How could he go to the Decepticons to negotiate a treaty? How could he believe that Megatron, a ruthless warmonger, wanted peace with humanity? And now because of his foolish actions, forty-six people were dead.

No. It was worse than that.

Their bodies had been dismembered and burnt to a crisp, left to rot in the merciless sun of the desert. The graphic images were burned into Lennox’s brain, joining the countless horrid memories locked away in his mind. Megatron had torn those humans apart, just like mankind had torn him and his kind apart. The lieutenant colonel realized it was a message.

That there would be no peace.

Not when Shockwave was free.

Lennox still remembered that hellish day when the Decepticon launched an attack on a NEST facility. Disguised as a WHO building on the outskirts of Washington D.C., no one was prepared. Even though Shockwave was alone, he tore through the base’s defenses, blasting anything in his way with his massive cannon. It took a lucky shot to his optic, blinding him, and then Ironhide and Bulkhead combined weight to tackle him into the ground, to end his destructive rampage.

But it was too late. By the time the fight had ended, eighteen people had been killed.

And to make matters worse, Jack was taken by the Decepticons. No, not taken. _Traded._

It made Lennox sick to his stomach. Apparently he wasn’t the only one that was disgusted, as his hair stood on end as several electromagnetic fields raged around him.

“So this is how you cover up your lies?” Arcee snarled.

Her voice was cold and accusing, and if Lennox had been at her mercy, he would have shivered. Thankfully, he was spared, as another man took the brunt of the Autobots’ fury.

Lennox turned away from the monitor to see General Bryce standing in the center of the group of extraterrestrials. He was impressed that the military head of NEST managed to keep a brave façade, being surrounded by metal giants. His uniform was neat and orderly, adorned with a plethora of colorful medals. His hands were clasped behind his back and his feet were shoulder-length apart. There was not a twitch in his face—his inscrutable expression etched in stone. Bryce’s hardened gaze met the icy glares of his audience.

And yet, his voice came out as a tired groan, “If you have any better suggestions, I would be happy to pass them along to my superiors.”

“How about the truth?!”

Even Lennox flinched at the sudden shout, stepping away as Arcee’s plating flared. Even as the smallest of the Autobots, she still towered over Bryce. For a paranoid moment, Lennox feared that she would actually attack the general, until a deep, baritone voice rumbled, “Stand down, Arcee.”

The femme started slightly at Optimus Prime’s order. She turned to her leader, but seeing the resolution in his optics, she grumbled and slunk away from Bryce. Lennox relaxed, but only a little. Because now Bryce had Optimus’s full attention.

“General Bryce, we have done nothing but treat you admirably,” the Autobot leader spoke. “We warned you that the Decepticons were a danger not only to your country, but to the entire planet. Not only did you disregard our words, you negotiated with Megatron, without our knowledge or our consent.”

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have done the same if our positions were reversed,” Bryce spat. “The U.S. has made deals with the devil before. We knew the risks, talking to Megatron, but we knew we had to take it.”

“So Galloway was acting on your government’s behalf, and yet you disgrace his name.” At that, the general’s stoic mask broke. With a deepening frown, he looked away, only for Optimus to continue, “And now, because of your irresponsibility, a Decepticon is released from his prison and a human child has been taken hostage.” 

Bryce didn’t have a chance to retort even if he wanted to. The Guardian Knight turned on his heel, lumbering away and out of sight. Ultra Magnus and Ironhide cautiously followed their leader, the latter sending Bryce a rather disdainful look. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe slipped away, under the guise to go for another race, with Smokescreen trailing after them. Leaving the remaining Autobots with the small group of very uncomfortable humans.

Lennox was almost happy when Simmons broke the tense silence, “Oof. Hate to be on the receiving end of Optimus’s silent treatment.”

“Um, I think you are,” Lennox pointed out.

The Sector Sector agent thought about it. “Oh.”

With a sigh and a shake of his head, the lieutenant colonel marched towards the direction that Optimus Prime took. He didn’t acknowledge Bryce—there was nothing else to be said. There was nothing else that Lennox _could_ say. He knew whatever happened in the desert went far above his paygrade. He didn’t even hear about the negotiations until that morning, when General Bryce contacted him, reporting there was a distress call coming from Tikaboo Valley. From Homey Airport.

Shockwave’s _prison._

Lennox responded as quickly as he could, but by the time he and his men arrived, it was too late. When he finally returned to the Cape, he was greeted by a frantic Arcee. Jack had gone missing. The teenager had entered the hospital, only to never come back out. Fowler had discovered that someone had tampered with June Darby’s orders. It didn’t take long to put two and two together. Backed in a corner, General Bryce confessed the truth.

The Autobots took it as well as expected.

Lennox groaned as he ran a hand through his graying hair. It took him years to build a bond of trust with the Autobots. Trust that was beginning to fall apart. The military alliance between the aliens and the humans was already thin. Now, all Lennox could do was grab as many pieces as he could and try to hold it together.

It was at times like this he wished that his former commander, Sergeant Darby, was still alive. He would have known what to do.

His journey led him to another part of the hangar. It was there he found the sulking Prime. Ultra Magnus was speaking in Cybertronian. Lennox had no idea what he was saying, but judging by the low, rumbling tones, it was nothing positive. Ironhide’s scowl certainly wasn’t.

It wasn’t until Lennox stepped closer that the whispering giants noticed him. Magnus immediately went silent with a stern glare and Ironhide growled. Optimus was as benevolent as always, turning around with a quiet greeting. Although Lennox wasn’t going to ask, the Autobot leader seemed to hear his unspoken question.

“My second-in-command was suggesting to me that we finish construction of the _Xanthium_ ,” Optimus translated, “and use it to leave your planet.” 

Ultra Magnus stiffened slightly and glanced at his leader, obviously displeased that the Prime was so blatant. Lennox swallowed thickly at the cold statement. The _Xanthium_ was the research team’s main project, a spaceship built from the wreckage of the ruined _Ark_. Last he heard, it was still far from completion, but it didn’t make Optimus’s threat any less chilling.

After a moment, Lennox asked, “Will you?”

The Prime narrowed his optics and looked away. “I… am not sure.”

The lieutenant colonel swallowed thickly. Something in Optimus’s voice told him that he was considering it. Not that Lennox could blame him. A Prime’s sole duty was to protect his people. He would do that no matter the cost. Still, just the idea of the Autobots abandoning their human allies was enough to twist Lennox’s heart.

“You’re pissed off, I get it,” he sighed. “I’m pissed off, too.” He then looked up at Optimus, reminding him, “But you were the one that said not to judge us, based on the actions of a few.”

Ironhide snorted. “What did we know? How many of our kind have been killed by you humans? How many more of us have to die, to atone for your mistakes?”

“What do you think being a human means? We make mistakes, that’s what we do. But isn’t that one of our rights of freedoms, as sentient beings?” Optimus furrowed his optics ridges as his own words were echoed back at him, but he didn’t protest as Lennox continued, “Well, sometimes freedom has a price.”

“Sometimes a price may be too high,” Ultra Magnus grumbled. 

The human shook his head and put his hands on his hips. He was never good at motivational speeches. He was better at giving orders, and making sure that they were followed. Now here he was, trying to give a pep talk at the being that practically invented pep talks.

“Look, I know you don’t have a lot of faith in us right now,” Lennox told. “But at least have faith in who we can be. Because we need you. _Jack_ needs you.”

Politics aside, the child was still in the clutches of a psychopath. He hoped the reminder of their human charge would stir the Autobots into action, only for Ironhide to let out a seething growl.

“If the boy even _wants_ our help.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every time we rescue that brat, he just turns around and walks right back to ‘Cons.”

“It’s not his choice!”

“It was when he went to Megatron instead of us to save his mom. If it wasn’t for Fowler, we wouldn’t have even known about it! And before that, when Arcee picked him up that one day. Optimus, I know you had to smell him. He _reeked_ of Buckethead!”

“Ironhide’s words have merit,” Ultra Magnus agreed. “We have to consider the possibility that Jack has turned to the Decepticons.”

“You can’t be serious!” Lennox protested, not believing his ears. “He’s been in our protection for weeks!”

“Oh, yes, and he’s practically been _bouncing_ with joy,” Ironhide commented.

The lieutenant colonel couldn’t help but frown at that. He hadn’t failed to notice Jack’s depressed state during his stay at the base. He had hoped that the boy’s treatments would improve his mood. They seemed like they did, but it was always temporary. And while Miko and Raf took every opportunity to spend time with their guardians, Jack usually hesitated before visiting the Autobots. In fact, it seemed he was effectively trying to avoid them.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the little punk went along willingly,” Ironhide continued on venomously.

“He was dragged away from his mother in _handcuffs_ ,” Lennox corrected. “That doesn’t sound ‘willing’ to me.”

“It could have possibly been a ruse,” Magnus suggested.

Before the man could offer another refute, a new voice rung out, “No! Jack wouldn’t do that!”

The group blinked as one, the Transformers glancing up while Lennox whirled around. Only to gasp at the sight of June Darby.

The man hardly recognized her. The woman’s skin had grown pale and her body had become horribly thin. Her raven-black hair was dull and pulled back in a disheveled ponytail. Yet her electric-blue eyes were blazing and there wasn’t even a limp in her gaunt as she marched across the hangar. Fowler was trailing after her, the plump man looking helpless as he struggled to keep up.

“June, you shouldn’t be here,” Lennox said, hurrying to intercept her. “You need to be laying down—“

“Colonel Lennox, I have been laying down more in the past two months than most people in their lifetime,” the woman cut off sharply. “I’m here about my son.”

“You’re supposed to be at the barracks.”

Fowler uncomfortably shuffled his feet at that, stating timidly, “She insisted on coming.”

“I’m supposed to be with _Jack_ ,” June snapped. “Instead, I was woken up by strangers barging into my room, moving me like I was a piece of meat. I had to wait until Mr. Fowler, not my own _child,_ to sign the forms for my release. Which, by the way, thank you, that was sweet of you.”

It took a moment for the government agent to realize the latter sentence was directed towards him, flushing and stuttering awkwardly, “Uh, y-you’re welcome.”

However, the sweet tone disappeared as quickly as it came when June shifted her glare back to Lennox. She placed a firm hand on his chest.

“But I’m not here for you,” she said. “I want to talk to _him_.”

Although her push was light, Lennox obeyed the clear, silent order and stepped to the side. Leaving the livid mother a direct path to her target. 

She marched right up to Optimus Prime, yelling, “The _only_ reason I let my son stay with you was that you _promised_ that you could protect him. How many times now has he been _hurt_ , because of _you_?”

“ _Us_?” Ironhide snarled, kneeling onto the ground and pointing a hostile finger at June. “You have a lot of gall, female—“

“ _Ironhide_ ,” Optimus thundered.

Transformers and humans alike flinched at the resounding boom. The Autobot leader had been deathly quiet the whole conversation, so his suddenly shout was enough to startle Lennox. Optimus must have realized his mistake, letting out a heavy sigh, as if trying to regain his composure.

“You have every right to be upset, Ms. Darby,” the sage spoke slowly. “I made a vow to you. A vow I have failed to upkeep.”

June’s hands balled into fists as she realized, “That bastard has my boy, doesn’t he?”

Optimus nodded. 

“Why Jack? What could Megatron possibly want from him?”

“I do not know of Megatron’s true motivations. But, it is my theory that Jack reminds him of an… old ally.” Optimus looked away at that, even shutting his eyes, as if he was reliving a painful memory. He forced himself to continue, “Megatron believes he can sway Jack to his cause.”

June squinted as she tried to make sense of the mech’s words, only to shake her head. “But he is a _child_!”

“Jack is naive, yes,” Optimus agreed, “which makes him more susceptible to Megatron’s manipulations. But, he is intelligent and independent. Megatron coerced him into stealing military secrets, and pursuing MECH. Both of which, I understand, were successful endeavors.”

There was a moment of silence as June pieced it together. Crossing her arms over her chest, she accused, “So this isn’t about Jack. This is about _you_. This is all _your_ fault.”

“...Yes.”

“ _Optimus_ ,” Ultra Magnus gasped. “You cannot blame yourself. Megatron’s malice is far beyond your control.”

“But it is, dear friend,” the Prime argued quietly. “There was a time that I could have steered Megatron away from his path of destruction. Instead, I did nothing. I allowed him to be consumed by madness.”

“Orion’s faults are not your own.”

Lennox blinked, not recognizing the name. But it must have meant something to Optimus, who only frowned at his second-in-command.

“But they are,” the Guardian Knight insisted. “For we share the same spark. Which is why I must accept responsibility for his actions. For _my_ actions.”

Optimus closed his optics and let out a heavy sigh. Lennox could feel the warm waft wash over him, rustling his short-cropped hair and tickling his skin. When the Autobot opened his optics, they reminded him of a neutron star—bright and intense and pulling at everything in its gaze.

His voice was deep and slow, as if it was filled with remorse, as he spoke, “I have been foolish not to see what history has proven over and over—that Autobots and Decepticons will never mend their ways. If there is no diplomatic solution to this perpetual conflict, then I must not allow more darkness to fall upon this, or any other planet. Megatron must be destroyed, even if I must vanquish his spark myself.”

“And what about Jack?” June demanded.

It was clear the woman cared little for the alien’s interstellar war. She only cared about one thing. She didn’t even flinch when Optimus turned his consuming gaze towards her.

“It is true, Jackson never wanted a part in our fight,” the sage rumbled. “Yet he became involved, anyway. Much like the rest of your people and some have paid a grave price. I will not leave young Jackson to the same fate. I will not forsake _any_ of our human allies.”

His declaration had mixed reactions. Ironhide rolled his optics with an audible groan. Ultra Magnus slumped in defeat. Fowler gapped and June glared. Lennox couldn’t help but sag with relief. 

Optimus wasn’t going to abandon humanity. There was still hope that they could win this fight.

But like Ironhide could hear his thoughts, the weapons specialist growled, “Whatever. Like it changes anything. We still have no way off this planet. We’re grounded. We’re outnumbered a hundred to one. We don’t know where to start looking for this kid, if he’s even on our side.”

“Wait, hold on, now,” Fowler interrupted. “I thought Jack turned Megatron down.”

“So he says. Or maybe Megatron taught him how to lie.”

“No,” June refused. “Jack wouldn’t leave me.”

“Well, he’s gone now, isn’t he?”

The woman’s cheeks flushed with rage at that, but before she could start shrieking at the Autobots again, Lennox quickly suggested, “Skyfire’s a flyer, right? We’ll send him up in the air and have him take a look around—”

Ironhide snorted, which sounded like a dump truck gone horribly wrong. “That turncoat? I trust him as far as I can throw the _Ark_.”

“What are you talking about?” Fowler demanded. “I thought he was an Auto—”

Once again Lennox spoke up, “Then we’ll increase global surveillance. See what our energon detectors can find.”

“So we’re going with _your_ word?” Ironhide growled lowly. 

The human managed to meet the giant’s glare with his own. “You just said, ‘like it changes anything.’”

The Autobot made an offended noise that his own statement was used against him, but before he could refute, Ultra Magnus stepped in, “Even with the aid of your technology, there is no way to track the _Nemesis_. Its cloaking shields make it invisible to all radar. Even if we do find it, we have no means of boarding and taking the ship.”

“Actually you’re wrong about that,” came Arcee’s voice.

Ironhide turned to greet the femme that had wandered into the room, “Care to explain?”

Arcee paused beside the group and placed a servo on her hip, offering, “We use a groundbridge.”

“A groundbridge can only operate with a set of predetermined coordinates,” Ultra Magnus explained. “Which is impossible if we do not know the location of the _Nemesis._ ”

“But if someone could transmit the ship’s position?”

“Then we would need someone to be _on_ the ship, which we do not,” Ironhide argued, then added with a jab of a finger, “and _don’t_ say that two-timing shrimp. Forget it, Arcee, Megatron’s warship floats around the Earth day and night.”

“Except when it needs to refuel.” Arcee seemed to capture her audience’s attention at that. When the group cocked their heads towards her with interest, she told, “It was how Jack and I managed to escape in China. Whenever Megatron secures a fresh energon source, he sends the _Nemesis_ to collect as much as possible. It stays attached to the ground for hours at a time.”

“A small window, if you ask me.”

“But it’s a _window_.”

“An active Decepticon mine would have tight security,” Ultra Magnus pointed out. “Any assault would be met with heavy resistance. Megatron would know of our ploy before we could even approach the ship.”

“If we went guns’ blazing, yeah,” Arcee agreed. “But if we send in a _small_ stealth team, whose mission is not to destroy, but sabotage the _Nemesis_ ’s defenses.”

“Then we bring in the rain,” Lennox concluded.

The femme’s lips curled in a knowing, almost devious, smile. “Exactly.”

The Autobots began to exchange glances at each other, optics filled with uncertainty and a glimmer of hope.

“It’s… possible,” Ironhide admitted after a long moment.

“It will be an incredible risk,” Ultra Magnus added. “Should we fail, we will not only lose the element of surprise, but very lives.”

“Which is why we must ensure we send in a capable force,” told Optimus Prime. Then, to nearly everyone’s surprise, he turned to Arcee. “Arcee, on Cybertron, you were part of Special Operations as an intelligence officer. It stands to reason that you are the most suited for this task.”

The motorcycle blinked in surprise at her leader’s words. “You mean…”

“Yes. Effectively immediately, you are clear for active duty.”

Arcee’s optics automatically went wide and bright, like a child walking into the candy store. Her EM field flared again, but rather than being filled with bitter emotion, Lennox had a good guess it was electrified with exhilaration. 

Her reaction made sense. In their desperate pursuit for Jack, Arcee’s dark emotions had begun to get the best of her. In order to protect the rest of the team, and _herself,_ Optimus grounded her to base. It was no secret that being stuck in one place riddled the combat veteran with anxiety.

“But you will not act alone,” Optimus added.

“Understood,” Arcee accepted, then she turned and called out, “Wheeljack, you consider yourself an engineer. You think you can work a Decepticon ship?”

Lennox glanced over his shoulder to see the Wrecker had wandered into the room, just in time to hear his name. A wicked grin spread across his faceplates.

“A piece of cake,” he purred, the human phrase easily rolling off his glossa.

Then a new voice appeared from thin air, “You will need someone to navigate.”

Lennox nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt a EM field brush up against his back. He whirled around, just to see the air shimmer before him. Then a bright crimson shape appeared into existence. Mirage cackled. Arcee replied with a relieved and grateful smile.

“Ah, good to know we have a set of suicidal volunteers,” Ironhide grumbled. “Now all we need to do is find the cookie jar that Megatron is going to pick from.”

Arcee and Optimus glanced at Lennox the same time an idea came to the man’s mind.

“I’ll go check on those energon detectors,” he offered.

Without wasting any more time, he turned on his heel and headed out of the hangar. Even though NEST had achieved nearly global surveillance, it would take a while to track down a fresh mine. Lennox decided to search for the biggest surge of energy, and go from there.

Hopefully, it would lead them to the right direction. Right to Jack.

Lennox could only hope the boy was still okay.

* * *

Jack was _not_ okay.

He let out a violent shriek as he felt the metallic needle slide underneath his skin. He wanted to wrench away from the intrusion, to get _away_. But with Shockwave’s whole servo pinning him in place, it was impossible. Each of the Decepticon’s claws held down each of Jack’s limbs, while the fifth finger had transformed into a fine, syringe-like contraption. But rather than injecting the teenager with a substance, it pulled fluids out of _him_.

Jack’s head spun as he saw the clear vial fill with his own blood. It was another addition to Shockwave’s collection of samples, along with the human’s hair, sweat, salvia, skin and even shavings of his nails. The scientist kept his promise to Megatron, making sure not to cause any harm to Jack, even when the boy made every effort to get away.

 _“Get **off** of me!” _he screeched.

 _“Your resistance is only making your circumstances more difficult,”_ Shockwave huffed.

_“Get fragged!”_

_“Hmph. I have all I require, regardless.”_

Jack was surprised when his captor actually pulled away, relieving the near-crushing pressure on his limbs. He immediately shot up into a sitting position, rubbing at his abused bones. He hoped there wouldn’t be bruises. The boy glanced down at the gash Shockwave left behind, only to see that the cut had already stopped bleeding. Unfortunately, the scientist noticed, too.

 _“Curious,”_ he hummed. _“The dark energon seems to accelerate your body’s regeneration rate.”_

 _“Yeah, I caught on to that a while back,”_ Jack sassed.

_“Its properties are usually destructive. I’ve witnessed patients succumb to its effects within a single cycle.”_

The statement sent Jack’s mind tumbling. It took himself several seconds to register the information. There were others? They… _died_?

The revelation chilled him to his core. He always knew he was special. He knew what energon could do, especially to humans. He had _watched_ a soldier be burned to death by the toxic substance. Yet, for whatever reason, he was immune. Megatron was immune, too.

Why?

Like Shockwave’s could hear his thoughts, the scientist mused, _“I may have to request Lord Megatron to conduct a few tests on him as well.”_

 _“Ah, I wouldn’t do that,”_ Jack warned. _“He’s very touchy about that.”_

The warlord was reluctant to have Knock Out, his chief medic, operate on him. Jack doubted Megatron would allow Shockwave’s greedy claws to come near him.

 _“I am not as clumsy and irresponsible as your human ‘scientists’,”_ Shockwave retorted, scoffing at the term with disgust. _“The only reason I stand so high in the Decepticon ranks is because Lord Megatron trusts my capability.”_

It was Jack’s turn to snort as the mech turned away, muttering in English, “Yeah, because you’re so _perfect._ ”

He wasn’t expecting Shockwave’s reply, speaking low and clear in his tongue, “No one is without mistakes. But, I do believe I am more competent than most.”

Jack let out a startled scream, flinching back so violently he almost fell over. He fumbled for words, babbling like a baby until he finally stammered out, “Y-you.... you speak _English_?!”

“Of course. It is only logical that I learn the language of the native population.”

Jack was frozen in shock, even though he realized he was a fool for not realizing it earlier. Both the Autobots and the Decepticons had downloaded several Earth languages, primarily English, in order to communicate with the local humans. Still, hearing the harsh and guttural vowels with Shockwave’s deep bass was downright disturbing. At least his attention was no longer focused on Jack, as the scientist returned to his work station.

The human snarled with disgust as Shockwave inserted the tiny vial of _his_ blood into the machine. A beam of light washed over it, followed by a chime. Then an image of microscopic red blood cells appeared, complete with white blood cells and platelets. It made bile rise up in Jack’s throat.

It was like MECH all over again. Before all the wretched torture, the paramilitary organization pricked him like a pin cushion, trying to dissect as much as his physiology as possible. Jack thought the Decepticons would be different. Megatron had _saved_ him, cared for him…

 _"You really think that was a **rescue** , don't you?" _Airachnid’s mocking tone cackled.

Was it all a ploy, then? Was this what Megatron wanted all along? Was Jack just a toy? An experiment?

The boy swallowed thickly as he brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in his legs. He almost wished Soundwave was still here. Although the telepath couldn’t erase his thoughts like Megatron could, at least he could deter the downward spiral of Jack’s mind.

Another excited beep pierced the air, bringing him out of his self-misery. He forced his gaze back up, to see the screen had begun to change. Jack wasn’t really sure was he was looking at, as Shockwave skimmed through several slides of his tissues, magnifying the mutated cells more and more. Finally a line of code appeared, forming into a new, but familiar shape.

Instantly Shockwave’s frame went completely rigid, every gear locking into place. The antennas upon his helm tilted up like a startled cat’s ears. And although the Decepticon was turned away from him, Jack could see the glow of his optic growing brighter.

In his shock, Shockwave had switched back to his native tongue, _“Impossible…”_

Jack didn’t get it. “What? It’s a double helix.”

He recognized the unmistakable shape from his biology class. His teacher spent a whole lecture and a half, describing the unique components that were responsible for human life. The antiparallel strands twisting around each other, held together by nothing more than hydrogen bonds—

Jack wasn’t expecting for Shockwave to whirl around in a blink of an eye, fixing him with his blazing optic. “You know what this is?”

The student hoped he did, or else he really failed that biology final.

“Um, yeah… It’s DNA,” he identified. When Shockwave just stared blankly, he clarified, “Deoxynucleic acid.”

“What is its purpose?”

Jack was even more confused, squinting as he answered, “It comprises our genes. Basically it, um… makes up who we are.”

The Cybertronian looked like the tiny human slapped him in the optic. Without so much as an explanation, Shockwave whirled around, claws flying across the keys. But instead of stifling through more data, he sent a communication request. Only a moment passed before Megatron’s scarred faceplates on one of the monitors.

 _“What is it, Shockwave?”_ the Decepticon leader asked.

 _“A discovery,”_ the chief engineer answered. _“Something you must behold for yourself.”_

Megatron’s optics narrowed. _“Jack?”_

_“It is not just him alone. It appears that humans are more evolved than previously believed.”_


	5. Linked

Once his initial shock wore off, Shockwave became alive with excitement. He abandoned the rest of samples he gathered from Jack, focusing his efforts on the newfound DNA. It filled the entire screen, random pieces flashing as the Cybertronian computer attempted to analyze the organic substance.

Confused was the least Jack was feeling. What did the mech say? Something about human evolution? Not that it made any more sense. He knew the Decepticons thought of his people as little more than insects, but still, even a bug needed to pass on its legacy. A day-long legacy, but was one all the same.

Not once did Shockwave glance up from his work, acting as if Jack wasn’t even in the room. It wasn’t until the doors hissed open that the scientist pulled away from the console. Jack bristled as Megatron strode into the lab, his thunderous pedes resounding across the air. And he wasn’t alone.

Soundwave walked in the shadow of his lord and master, flanked by Knock Out and a hulking mech, Breakdown, while another figure took the rear. Cobalt armor gleamed underneath the alien lights, only interrupted by bright, golden lines. Dreadwing, Megatron’s newly promoted second-in-command. Jack was wondering when the Decepticon zealot would show up. While Dreadwing didn’t even glance in his direction, Jack felt another set of crimson optics bore into him.

 _“Hello, my dear Jack,”_ Megatron smirked as he made his way to his pet.

Jack wanted to run away, but he was left physically exhausted after battling Shockwave’s servo. So he only stiffened when Megatron’s claws curled around him, pressing against his back. The titan made no move to pick him up, but the blood-bond was dripping with possessiveness.

 _“Has Shockwave been treating you well?”_ Megatron asked.

 _“As well as MECH,”_ Jack spat.

The Deception leader glanced at his subordinate in a sideways glare.

 _“As Soundwave can testify, I did nothing more than what was required,”_ Shockwave defended calmly.

That seemed enough to satisfy Megatron. _“Oh, I am sure. You would never disappoint me.”_

The mech ran a claw down Jack’s back, stroking his mind across the blood-bond. The boy resisted the urge to lean into the touch, both physically and mentally. He kept his focus on Shockwave, who humbly bowed his helm. Knock Out only watched the exchange with a bored expression, arms crossed over his chest.

 _“Yes, well, do you mind explaining why you called us all here?”_ the mech demanded impatiently.

 _“I was getting to that,”_ Shockwave assured. He turned back to his work station, raising a clawed servo at the picture of DNA. _“Do you know what this is?”_

It was Dreadwing that answered with a frown, _“Cybernucleic acid. Honestly, Shockwave, what kind of fools do you take us for?”_

_“None at all. Except your conclusion is incorrect.”_

_“Come again?”_

Dreadwing looked puzzled, as if he misheard his comrade. He wasn’t the only one. Jack could only stare, hopelessly lost. He thought he mistranslated something. It sounded like Dreadwing said nucleic acid, but completely muddled the prefix. The human still didn’t understand what the material had to do with anything. At least the other Decepticons looked just as uncertain. Even Megatron.

It didn’t help Jack’s discomfort when Shockwave shifted back to him, explaining, _“According to the subject, humans call this_ deoxyribonucleic acid. _It encodes their genetics.”_

The English vowels were rough against the string of Cybertronian sounds. However, it was practically drowned out by the Decepticons’ gasps and shouts of denial.

 _“Huh?”_ Breakdown gasped.

 _“Say **what** now?” _Knock Out squawked.

 _“A mere human cannot possess—_ Dreadwing stammered.

Soundwave chuffed in disbelief.

 _“How can that be?”_ Megatron exclaimed.

 _“Unclear,”_ Shockwave rumbled, answering all their questions at once. _“The odds of this formation is one in three billion.”_

Finally Jack had enough. He raised his voice so he could be heard over the muttering Deceptions, _“Can someone tell me what the **frag** is going on?!”_

He wasn’t fazed when the giants turned their gazes to him with mixed expressions.

 _“Are—are you kidding?”_ Breakdown stammered. _“You humans really are something, aren’t you?”_

Jack bristled at the insulting tone. The only thing he hated more than being stuck out of the loop, was being treated like an idiot because of it. He knew the Decepticons were rattled, that much was obvious, but he failed to understand what DNA and evolution had to do with it.

Megatron must have sensed his growing agitation, because his petting became more insistent. A wave of calm washed over Jack’s thoughts, but it didn’t completely douse the fiery emotions there.

Megatron glanced down at him with a mix of pity and exasperation before he barked, _“Enough, Breakdown. Humans have no way of knowing. You cannot judge an insect for being ignorant of what lies beyond its forest.”_

 _“You can judge someone for being an aft,”_ Jack quipped.

_“Hush.”_

The boy winced when Megatron disciplined him with a light whack to the head, just with his thumb. Jack rubbed his throbbing skull, though he was well aware the mighty Decepticon could have done significantly more damage if he wanted to.

Then Megatron mused, _“Though, it is quite unexpected that humans and Cybertronians share the same genetic material.”_

_“So? Doesn't everything have DNA?”_

Shockwave’s antennas tilted back. _“Not necessarily all life_. _”_

_“All life on Earth does.”_

_“On **Earth** ,” _Megatron agreed, but it was more like he was humoring the confused boy, _“but elsewhere, the presence of nucleic acid is much rarer.”_

 _“Especially in a double helix structure,”_ Shockwave added. _“This combination was believed to be unique only to Cybertronians.”_

 _“Until now,”_ Dreadwing drawled.

Jack was still trying to digest the information he had been told, slowly registering, _“So… only Cybertronians have DNA?”_

 _“ **C** NA,” _Knock Out corrected, _“as in cybernucleic acid.”_

There was that weird word again, the one that Jack was still trying to make sense of. All he really understood that somehow the substance that made up humans was somehow the same thing that made up Cybertronians. Something that wasn’t present anywhere else in the universe.

Jack never really put that much thought into that kind of stuff. The Autobots told him that their race emerged from the Well of All Sparks, created by a fragment of Primus’s soul. But it was based more on old myths than scientific fact, so he never got a true explanation how Cybertronians came to be.

 _“Then I have a question,”_ Knock Out piped up. _“If the humans are like us, then how did they get the ‘short’ end of the stick?”_

 _“How long did it take you to come up with that one?”_ Jack huffed, though his comment was ignored.

 _“It could be due the nucleic acid being made up of different elements,”_ Shockwave hypothesized. _“A carbon-based structure stabilized by a deoxygenated ring, rather than the cybernite-based scaffolding of our own.”_ While Jack’s brain began to melt at all the complicated terms, the scientist went on to conclude, _“It explains why the organics’ anatomy is nearly identical to our own, yet their physiology is vastly different.”_

 _“Then… **how**?” _Knock Out stressed, and Shockwave seemed to understand his meaning.

_“I do have a theory. There are records dating back to the Golden Age of Cybertronians using this planet as a storage outpost. We know that the massive stockpiles of energon located here are a direct result of this. It could be possible that the energon had a part in influencing human evolution, and all other native organisms, for that matter.”_

_“Going out on a limb there, aren’t you?”_

_“It is a theory.”_

_“A plausible one,”_ Megatron mused. _“One I have considered as well. I admit, it has taken me sometime to comprehend that Earth and Cybertron are inextricably linked. Two halves of one whole. And to rule only one, would be to never truly rule **either**.”_

The warlord spoke with a dark, possessive drawl, his malicious, vermillion optics brightening with zealous glee. A chill crawled up Jack’s spine, following Megatron’s cold touch. Then _, finally,_ the Decepticon leader pulled away, walking to stand before his followers.

He curled his claws in a triumphant fist as he continued, _“For the first time in a long while, we have the opportunity to tip the scales into our favor. We must redouble our efforts. Increase mining productivity, increase global surveillance, increase our attacks on our enemies. We will crush the Autobots, and we will take this world.”_

Jack’s chest tightened at how easily Megatron plotted the destruction of his long-time rivals. How easily he plotted to conquer the Earth. What Johnathan Darby died to defend. What Jack Darby promised to defend.

And he had broken that promise.

He revealed the location of the Autobot base. He sold military secrets. He played a hand in MECH’s dismantlement.

Even now, here he was, sitting like a docile dog at an animal testing lab. Even now, Jack didn’t protest Megatron’s insane speech. He only watched silently, hands clenched into fists as dread knotted his stomach.

Even Breakdown had more gall than him, objecting, _“All do with respect, sir, those ‘Bots aren’t pushovers. We keep wailing on them, and they keep getting back up.”_

 _“Then clearly we need to improve our methods of hunting Autobots,”_ Megatron hissed. He turned to Shockwave expectantly.

Capable as always, the scientist didn’t skip a beat, although what he said wasn’t the news that his leader likely wanted to hear.

 _“With limited resources here on Earth, and no way to transport back to my laboratory, it is illogical for me to engineer efficient weaponry or conduct proper experiments,”_ Shockwave explained matter-of-factly. _“However, there is another source that may provide the tools we require.”_ When Megatron only cocked an optic ridge in question, the chief engineer elaborated, _“The Iacon Database.”_

Jack furrowed his eyebrows at the alien, yet familiar name. Iacon? Wasn’t that the Autobot capital? He vaguely remembered that Arcee told him that it was besieged by the Decepticons, scattering Autobot forces. Left with nowhere to go on a dying planet, it was only then that Optimus Prime ordered the Great Exodus.

But no one mentioned a database.

It was Dreadwing that asked, _“And what is that?”_

Megatron had his optics narrowed in thought, but at his second’s question, he turned and answered, _“When we stormed the Iacon Hall of Records in the waning days of the War for Cybertron, we acquired highly classified files. Files written with Autobot codes which we have been unable to decipher.”_

 _“Then how are we supposed to crack them?”_ demanded Knock Out, tilting his head either in question or in boredom.

 _“Because before we did not possess the Alpha Trion Protocols,”_ Shockwave answered.

Once again Jack was lost. He hopelessly shook his head, but continued his vigil as Knock Out raised an optic ridge.

_“Are you going to explain that one, too?”_

_“During my rule on Cybertron, my forces managed to capture Alpha Trion, the head historian of Iacon,”_ Shockwave told. _“He became the subject of my experiments. I sought to decode his vast collection of information and strategies stored in his processor, in order to use them against the Autobots. And perhaps, use his data to access systems barred to Decepticons. I eventually managed to upload his hard drive into a supercomputer, which I dubbed the Alpha Trion Protocols.”_

Jack found himself curling in repulsiveness throughout the tale. The Decepticon’s monotone voice didn’t even waver as he described how he kidnapped and used an Autobot. No, _tortured_. Did Alpha Trion know what was happening to him? Did he plead for mercy? Did Shockwave even hear him? Yet the Decepticons didn’t even seem to think twice about the gruesome story.

 _“Well, then, it’s pointless if we can’t even go back home to pick it up,”_ Knock Out grumbled.

_“On the contrary. Although the amount of knowledge was too much for a single system to contain, I was able to split apart the Alpha Trion Protocols into several drives. One, I downloaded into my own processor.”_

_“You just think of everything, don’t you?”_

_“And what of Alpha Trion?”_ Dreadwing questioned. His optics had narrowed into dangerous slits throughout the speech, digging into Shockwave’s thick hide.

The emotionless mech didn’t even seem bothered, answering, _“Alpha Trion did not survive the procedure.”_

Automatically Dreadwing _snarled_ , his optics widening with a brilliant flash. His armor fluffed out like an angry cat’s and his wings went straight up. Breakdown and Knock Out recoiled from the aggressive mech and even Soundwave flinched.

 _“Desecrator! You **murdered** him!” _Dreadwing bellowed, moving forward like he was readying to cut Shockwave in half. _“Instead of allowing him the honor of a death upon the battlefield, you left to rust upon a slab.”_

 _“And how many defenseless Autobots did you terminate in the war, Commander Dreadwing?”_ Shockwave retorted.

_“Autobot or not, he was still a Prime!”_

_“So was Zeta.”_

Jack cringed. It was a name he was all too familiar with, and a name he loathed. Optimus’s predecessor, he was the one that founded Cybertron’s caste system, in which some were born into luxury and others were born into slavery. He crushed anyone that spoke against him, securing all the power for himself.

He was the tyrant that Megatron vowed to end, only to—

_“ **Enough**!”_

Everyone present winced at the ferocious roar. Dreadwing, only inches away from barreling into Shockwave, froze in his tracks. Although the Seeker’s optics still blazing with fury, he knew better than to disobey his lord’s command.

Megatron glared at the quarreling duo only for a moment more before he demanded, _“Shockwave, do you believe these Protocols will assist you in deciphering the Database?”_

_“It will take time, but yes, my lord. It shall be done.”_

_“Have Soundwave assist you in your endeavors.”_ Then the Decepticon leader turned to the rest of his subordinates. _“Breakdown, you will oversee all our mining operations. Should there be an incident, Knock Out will handle injuries on his own. Dreadwing, assemble the armada. Send a patrol in every region. I want them searching for energon and any movement of our enemies. You have my permission to engage in any human force that may interfere.”_

Each Decepticon nodded or hummed at the order given to them. Though, Knock Out seemed displeased at the idea of being separated from Breakdown and Dreadwing frowned at the notion of firing upon helpless humans.

 _“Sure going to be a lot of changes around here,”_ Knock Out muttered.

 _“Indeed,”_ Megatron agreed. “ _Now allow me to clarify the new chain of command. While Dreadwing will retain authority over military operations, Shockwave will be my first lieutenant in charge of all scientific endeavors.”_

Dreadwing’s wings twitched. _“So... we shall each directly report to you.”_

 _“Affirmative.”_ Megatron looked back to Shockwave. _“Last but not least, have you completed your observation of my charge?”_

Jack blinked from his depressed stupor once he realized the tyrant was talking about _him_. 

_“I have collected enough data that will allow me to conduct my research. Should I require more, I shall contact you.”_

_“Very well.”_

Without further ceremony, Megatron spun on his heel and sauntered over to Jack. The teenager tried to inch away, but he couldn’t escape the silver claws that enclosed around him. He let out a squeak of protest as Megatron scooped him up and secured him against his chest. When Jack squirmed in discomfort, his cage squeezed against him in warning. Then the titan began to move.

 _“You have your orders,”_ Megatron announced, his chest reverberating against Jack from the deep rumble.

The boy heard scuffles of plating and hurrying of pedes as the Decepticons went about their assigned duties. Megatron stalked out of the laboratory, and Jack had a pretty good idea where he was going. So the teenager was left in his prison of darkness as metal pressed around him. Just like when MECH buried him alive.

_No, don’t go there._

But he could already feel the rising panic. His breathing started to become short and shallow. His shaking increased. 

_Think of something else_.

Jack tried to pull away from the horrid memories that invaded his mind, forcing himself to focus on Dr. Gardner’s calm, steady voice.

_Pebble Road. Hodge. Keenan. Pebble Road. Hodge. Kee—_

**_Stop that._ **

Jack winced as Megatron assaulted the train of thought, cutting it apart and stamping down the remains. He crushed the anxiety along with it, though it did little to soothe the human’s nerves. If anything, it made his headache return with a vengeance. So Jack could only remain limp for the rest of the journey.

Finally, they came to a familiar set of doors. Megatron’s quarters.

There were no guards, no drones patiently awaiting his order. Only a locking mechanism to keep out any unwanted guests. The Decepticon leader preferred it that way. In the privacy of his chambers, it was the only place where he had peace and quiet.

Megatron used his free servo to input a complicated code and the doors slid to the side, revealing a rather barren room. Even as a Champion, the former gladiator had little in the Pits of Kaon, so he had learned to survive without caring for the material things.

He crossed over to the gigantic berth, which was larger than even him. Jack felt his cage shift as Megatron extended his servo and tilted his palm, sending the human tumbling onto the soft material. Jack grunted as he unceremoniously fell into a twisted heap. He quickly untangled himself, climbing to his feet just as Megatron planted a servo next to him.

A sound of transformation reverberated across the room. Gears turned and plating folded back into nothing and wires shrunk in of themselves. Jack was already moving away, keeping his eyes locked on Megatron’s frame, which grew smaller and smaller with each passing moment. Soon he was hardly taller than the average human being.

It didn’t make him any less intimidating, as Jack had to crane his neck back just to meet the tyrant’s vermillion optics. Megatron stalked closer and the boy wanted to retreat further away. But there was nowhere to go. Every direction led to a straight drop onto an unforgiving, metal floor. Even if by some miracle that Jack survived the fall, he could not escape Megatron.

So the teenager held his ground, swallowing thickly as he glared up at the shrunken titan. Megatron paused, narrowing his optics at him. There was a moment of suffocating silence, the air crackling between them like a faulty firecracker.

Then, Megatron spoke, “You are angry with me.”

It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t matter as Jack answered, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

The army brat balled his hands into fists. “You murdered all those people.”

“Is that all?”

How nonchalantly, how _casually_ , Megatron said it made Jack seethe. He raised his voice to a vicious shout, “You didn’t have to kill them!”

“Yes, I did. They needed to be taught a lesson. They hoped to manipulate me, control me. I will not be made a tool of organics. Now I understand why Silas rebelled against his government.”

“You _know_ that’s different!”

“Is it?”

“Silas kidnapped me! He _tortured_ me!”

“Then you know exactly what it’s like!”

Jack couldn’t help but flinch at Megatron’s harsh shout, stepping back at the warlord stomped forward. Armor bristled aggressively, and for a brief moment, Jack thought he would strike. Then plating flatten and Megatron lowered his voice to a dangerous rumble, “After I dragged you out of that facility, when you first awoke, do you remember what you said?”

Jack denied him. “No.”

“You told me that you want Silas _dead_. You wanted him to _suffer_ , to return what he did to you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, but your intentions were clear.”

“No, they weren’t. I was out of it.”

“So were you still unclear when you contacted me, pleading for me? When you had me come, not to your aid, but to destroy your enemies?”

Jack bit his lip at that. He didn’t know what he wanted, when he used the blood-bond to call for Megatron before the Battle of Chernobyl. He just didn’t want his loved ones to die. He looked away, not sure how to answer. Megatron did not allow him that luxury. 

“Look at me!” he barked.

Jack winced, but he forced himself to meet those optics. It was like looking into the fires of hell. It took all his willpower not to shy away when Megatron narrowed his optics into a scathing glare.

“Did you realize our link was open, when you killed that detestable human?” he questioned.

Jack knew who he was talking about. He shuddered as Marcus’s lifeless gaze flashed across his vision.

“Y-you made me…”

“No. That was _your_ doing. I felt your pleasure, your _satisfaction_ —“

“ _Shut up_!” 

Jack slapped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the silver-tongued demon’s words. He tried to block out the unwanted feelings that rose in his chest, that invaded his mind. He began to move away, but Megatron would not have it. Unrelenting servos took his shoulders in a vice grip, yanking him back, closer to the Decepticon. 

“You deny your true nature because Optimus has filled you with lies and nonsense,” Megatron snarled harshly.

“No!” Jack refused. “My father—“

“Was a warrior. A _killer_.”

“ _Stop it_!” 

The screech was louder than the first. He wanted to deny the claim, say that Megatron was wrong, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew what his father did, what sins he had committed. The son still remembered how Dad would flinch whenever there was a sudden noise, how he would wince when he heard a cry of pain, how he would scream into the night. It took Jack years to understand that the soldier was haunted by the horrors of what he saw. Horrors the naive boy couldn’t imagine.

But he realized that Dad didn’t want the same life for his son. Johnathan taught him how to defend others, how to help others. He taught him how to _care_. Dad wanted him to heal, not hurt. He would not let Megatron twist his father’s legacy. 

Jack’s inner turmoil was interrupted when a clawed servo rose from his shoulder to his face, cupping his cheek. It was gentle and tender, little more than a ghost of a touch. Almost loving. His muddled mind couldn’t determine if it was real or fake.

Megatron lowered his voice again, nearly whispering, “You know it was deserved.”

He didn’t have to explain the subject of his sentence.

“I hated Galloway, but I didn’t want him to _die_ ,” Jack protested.

“You did.”

Did he? He didn’t know anymore.

He stiffened when Megatron leaned closer to him, pressing his brow to his. The metal felt cold against Jack’s sweaty skin. Nowhere to escape, the boy had no choice but to stare into those optics. It felt they were trying to see into his soul.

And then they were gone as Megatron shifted again. So he could bite his own wrist.

So close to his ear, Jack could hear the sickening _crunch_ of denting of plating and tearing of protoform. Something hot and sticky fell onto his neck. But it didn’t hurt.

Jack was completely immune to the dark energon now.

“Perhaps the taste of darkness will help you realize what you are,” Megatron rumbled. “Drink.”

The army brat shut his eyes tight. He tried to sound strong, only his voice to betray him, wavering as he said, “N-No.”

“We’ve been through this before. There is no point in fighting, my dear.”

Megatron adjusted his arm so that the leaking wound waved before Jack’s eyes. He could see the poisonous substance oozing from the broken fuel lines, glowing brightly in the dim room. He could _smell_ it. Sickly sweet, like flavored cough medicine.

Instead of gagging, Jack swallowed thickly. He could feel the familiar itch beginning to crawl across his skin. His stomach churned, almost pleading. The boy had to force himself to turn away.

“No,” he repeated. He wouldn’t let Megatron manipulate him, not like before.

“Jack—“

“I said _no_!”

In a moment of either courage or stupidity, Jack raised both of his arms and slapped away Megatron’s servos. It was enough to allow him to slip free. He took several steps back, away from the tyrant and away from the tantalizing dark energon.

“I won’t let you control me,” Jack spat, but he didn’t sound as brave as he wanted. “Not anymore.”

Megatron looked surprised at the human’s sudden aggression, but he seemed more exasperated than angry.

“Stop this,” he huffed. “You need to fuel.”

“No, I don’t need you.”

“You need the dark energon.”

“Already have it.”

The Decepticon leader’s optics widened at that. He sounded genuinely baffled. “What?”

“The Autobots have a stockpile,” Jack explained. “They have been giving it to me.”

It was then Megatron’s shock melted away as quickly as it appeared. His optics narrowed into deadly slits and he curled his lips back in a fanged snarl.

His tone was low and dangerous as he demanded, “Oh, have they now?” 

He began to stalk forward, like a lion nearing its prey. Jack scrambled back, like a frightened gazelle.

“And how do they feed you, little one? Do they give you a shard and watch you eat it? Do they nurse you with a bottle or do they force it down your throat? Because _surely_ Optimus is not slicing his own fuel lines, allowing you to drink from _his_ veins, from _his_ reserves.”

Megatron’s voice grew dark and possessive, his optics glowing menacingly. Jack didn’t let himself be intimidated, even though he kept the distance between them.

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“No, perhaps not. But I found it ironic. The Autobots are so averse to the Blood of Unicron and you find it such a terrible burden, yet that does not stop you from taking what should belong to _me_.”

“I need it to survive just as much as you do.”

“Yet here you are refusing to fuel.”

“I can go for _days_. Don’t you remember, Megatron? You would feed me only when you had the time.”

“Only to ensure you would accept it.”

Jack blinked. “What? Wait, you mean you—“

The teenager couldn’t even finish the sentence, his mind trying to process the words. Over the summer weeks, Megatron would only come to give him a dosage of dark energon. And then he would completely ignore Jack’s existence, leaving him alone for days. Sometimes over a week. Yet Megatron always came back, and it was always for the same purpose.

Jack would always try to refuse. That he didn’t want it, that he didn’t need it. But Megatron hardly said a few words to convince him. No, he merely had to give the boy the _promise_ of dark energon. And then suddenly the willpower would leave Jack’s body, because—

“Y-you _starved_ me on purpose?!”

“Of course. How else would I make you come to me?”

“Why you—“

Jack _seethed_ with rage. Without even registering the movement, he lunged towards Megatron. He had his fists raised, but he didn’t know if it was to punch the metal being or to throttle him. Either way, it didn’t matter, as Megatron easily swatted the assaulting hands away.

Suddenly a servo appeared around Jack’s throat, squeezing in warning. It wasn't crushing, not enough to constrict the air flow through the human’s trachea. Though he was well aware Megatron could effortlessly snap his neck like a twig.

Every muscle in his body froze, even though his eyes continued to blaze. Jack raised his voice to a near scream, “Is that all I am to you?! A tool? Or just some pet to sit in the corner and look pretty? You’ll just throw me out like some broken toy the second you get tired of me. Even Airachnid caught on to that—”

“She is a _fool_.”

Jack didn’t heed the hiss in the monster’s voice. He didn’t heed how Megatron’s sharp claws dug into his skin, threatening the fragile life underneath. He was too lost in his fury at the power-hungry, all-controlling _tyrant_.

“You are no better than Zeta Prime!”

Jack regretted the words before they even left his mouth. But he couldn’t take them back. He didn’t have a chance to. The reaction was instantaneous.

There was an offended roar, just as silver flashed across Jack’s eyes. Hot pain erupted from the side of his face. The world panned and his shoulder slammed onto the berth with a jarring impact. The boy seethed as a headache bloomed behind his eyes and his neck radiated in soreness.

His ears rang, but it did little to muffle Megatron’s savage scream, “I AM _NOTHING_ LIKE HIM!”

Jack only gritted his teeth. He then became aware that his cheek _stung_ , something wet oozing down his chin. Slowly, tentatively, he reached up to touch his face. When he drew his fingers away, they were stained with crimson blood. Jack realized what had happened. It was not the first time the tyrant had struck him. Even over the summer, when the Decepticon visited his home in the last hours of the night, Megatron would easily be set off. Just because Jack had disagreed with him, or even said one too many jokes.

However, this time the teen did not grit his teeth and bow his head. He met that scathing glare with his own, not bothering to hide his fury and hatred. An act of defiance that Megatron did not tolerate.

With a monstrous snarl, he pounced onto his downed pet. Jack wheezed as the shrunken titan’s _heavy_ weight settled on his chest, pressing the air from his lungs. Instantly he squirmed and flailed, even banging his fists against his captor, trying to escape. Megatron would not have it.

The Decepticon leader seized Jack’s wrists, pinning them above the boy’s head with one massive servo, his grip almost crushing. Another set of claws clasped Jack’s chin, holding it just as tightly, as Megatron forced electric-blue eyes to meet blood-red optics.

“You are only alive because I allow it!” the dictator seethed. “Just like I allowed you to have _my_ blood, _my_ power!”

“Only because you wanted me for _yourself_!” Jack shrieked back.

“Why shouldn’t I?! _I_ was the one that took you in, when the Autobots left you to rot. _I_ was the one that put you back together again, when MECH broke you into pieces! Because you are _mine_! I am your _master_!”

The teenager just shook his head furiously, trying to dislodge the servo latched onto him, but Megatron would not let go.

“ _Say it_.”

Jack knew what he wanted, and gritted his teeth. “No.”

The hold on his wrists tightened, and he yelped in pain. No doubt the bone was bruised, on the verge of breaking underneath the titan’s mighty strength.

“You will submit to me!” Megatron thundered. 

“No! You’re not my master and I don’t belong to you! I _hate_ you!”

There was a violent growl above him and the claws on his chin disappeared. Jack watched as Megatron curled his talons in a fist, cocking it back in what would be a brutal blow. The boy flinched and shut his eyes. 

He braced for the pain to come. He accepted what _could_ come. Yet it never came.

_“Lord Megatron.”_

Both the Cybertronian and the human started as Dreadwing’s voice drifted through the air, but it was distorted from the ship’s intercom. 

Megatron scowled, but answered his subordinate, yelling out, _“My chambers are not to be disturbed!”_

_“Forgive me, my liege. You would not answer my hails.”_

_“I am **busy**!”_

_“It is urgent.”_

_“Then speak urgently.”_

_“There is an intruder.”_

Jack could feel Megatron stiffen above him. The tyrant looked down at him, optics narrowed suspiciously.

_“Autobot?”_

_“Starscream,”_ Dreadwing corrected. _“He was last seen in the vicinity of the bridge.”_

Megatron growled like a tiger in a cage. His optics flickered back and forth, obviously torn between his duties as a warlord and disciplining his insolent pet. Jack held his breath, waiting for Megatron to decide.

Then finally, _“I will deal with the traitor.”_

With that, he released his vice grip and lifted off of Jack. The poor boy sucked in a breath, trying to re-inflate his squeezed ribcage. He subconsciously rubbed his abused wrists, adding it to his growing list of aches and pains. Megatron didn’t even give him a second glance, scrambling off the berth as he grew to his full height. Jack shivered as a black shadow looked over him.

“We will finish this discussion _later_ ,” the dictator vowed.

Jack didn’t reply. He only curled up on his side, turned away from his captor. He heard a scoff, followed by resounding pedes as Megatron stormed out of the room. There was the sound of doors opening and closing, locking into place. 

Then the alien glow of the lights vanished, leaving Jack in darkness.

**_DARKNESS…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter answered any DNA/CNA questions, but I had a few comments on it, so I’ll clear it up here. Yes, DNA is not a big to deal to us. All life on Earth has it. Plants have it. Bacteria have it. However, little known fact, there are different forms of it. There’s double-stranded, there’s single-stranded, and then you got your organisms that have RNA instead of DNA. So, this was just me being a nerd and exploring the fact that DNA is unique.
> 
> But how it relates to the story, our DNA simply looks identical to CNA. The Decepticons believe humans are so evolutionarily inferior, that they can’t even fathom that this is possible. So for them seeing physical evidence that humans and Transformers are possibly related, shakes them to the core. I hope that makes sense, but this isn’t a founding pillar of the plot, just a hint of what’s to come. 😉
> 
> Also, apologies if it seemed that I glazed over the story of Alpha Trion, but I did want to include his character. Transformers: Prime never explains what really happened to him, though I believe that it was implied he was deceased. My take on him was inspired by the Aligned continuity, which confirmed that Shockwave captured and tortured Alpha Trion, and the new Netflix series War for Cybertron: Siege, which includes the Alpha Trion Protocols.


	6. Armada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, everyone! Virtual school literally took up all of my time, but I am finally DONE! That said, I will have much more time to work on my writing, so expect more frequent updates!
> 
> As for this chapter, I have a confession to make: I cheated. I was supposed to have a full, descriptive, action-packed, nail-biter of a chapter before this one. Only, it wasn’t. It was slow, repetitive, and painful to write, more so than a lab report describing a plant’s height. So instead of forcing myself to write something that I was just plain unhappy with, I decided to skip it. Enjoy this summary instead.

Everything was going well, all things considered.

Lennox’s ploy with the energon detectors worked. The satellites isolated a massive energy surge, among the tall, rolling hills of northern England. The humans called them the Cumbrian Mountains, rich with coal that the country depended on. Lennox warned that the United States could not bring any reinforcements, not without informing the local government. That was just fine with Arcee. She had enough of humans and their politics.

Killing ‘Cons was more her taste. The mining drones were so engrossed by their work, captivated by the cerulean glow of their bounty, they did not detect the group of Autobots until it was too late. Arcee picked them off one by one, Wheeljack finishing those that she did not reach. An invisible Mirage cut them down without even being seen. Only a couple of Decepticon soldiers had a chance to call for reinforcements, only for their communication devices to erupt in static, courtesy of Wheeljack’s jammer.

They had taken the entire mine without a sound, all beneath the shadow of the _Nemesis_. True to Arcee’s theory, the warship had docked in order to refuel, its translucent, golden lift piercing the heart of the mountain. Waiting to be filled with fresh energon. Energon, that never came. Instead, the lift swallowed up three determined, vengeful Autobots into the belly of the beast. Now came the hard part: getting out alive.

Arcee was willing to admit that it wasn’t one of her best plans.

It was times like these that she wished that Jazz was still around. One of Optimus’s top lieutenants and the head of Special Operations, he would have figured out every detail of the letter. In fact, it would all be a game to him. He was one of those ‘Bots that made a plan that shouldn’t work and yet it _did_.

But he wasn’t here now. Megatron had murdered him. Tore him in half, right on top of a towering skyscraper, for everyone to see. Small and agile and _frail_ , his frame could not hold against the Champion of Kaon’s savage might.

Arcee terminated the memory replay, banishing the graphic images from her processor. She couldn’t think about that now. Optimus has given _her_ the lead, gave her a second chance to save Jack.

She wondered if her leader was aware of the guilt and self-loathing that ate at her spark. Jack was stolen right from under her olfactory sensors, _again_. She was _there_ , at the hospital, but had no idea what was going on inside. Did the charge call for her? Did he think she had left him once again?

It made Arcee grit her denta in anger. Every time she got closer to Jack—every time she promised he was safe—he was snatched away again. Every. Single. Time.

Back and forth he was pulled, like a doll between squabbling human younglings. And Arcee realized it would only go on like this, until she put an end to Megatron’s schemes. All of her attempts on the warlord’s life had failed, starting long before their arrival on Earth. But they had a chance this time. This one and only chance.

So Arcee crawled along an empty air duct within the bowels of the _Nemesis_. It was large enough for a frame as broad as Bulkhead, yet the little femme remained on her servos and knees, keeping her movements light and quiet. The lingering silence reminded her that she was on her own now.

Upon entering the ship, the Autobots decided the most tactical course of action was to split up. That way, they were less likely to be detected, and if one of them got caught, it gave the others a fighting chance. Wheeljack had set off to deactivate the ship’s cloaking device. Mirage was tasked to find a way to communicate with the rest of the team. While Arcee sought out Jack.

She had a couple good guesses where Megatron was keeping him. She remembered the last time she had infiltrated the _Nemesis_ all too well. She had forced her way into the Decepticon leader’s quarters, only to find Jack curled on _his_ chest.

 _“You’re pet belongs to me now,”_ Megatron had cackled.

The statement made Arcee seethe. Jack was not a pet to be owned. He was free to do whatever he wanted. Even if it was true, that he really did want to stay with Megatron. But Arcee needed to know. She needed to know if Jack really cared for the Decepticon leader more than his Autobot guardian. She had to confirm it with her very own optics.

Though Arcee wasn’t sure how she would react once she found her answer. She wasn’t sure if it would change her intention to kill Megatron.

Now only she had to find the monster’s lair. While the winding corridors of the _Nemesis_ were confusing, the ship’s ventilation system was even more so. Arcee had already bumped into several dead-ends and fell down one shaft that stretched across several decks. At this rate, it would take ages until she reached Jack!

Just then, just as Arcee gave a huff of frustration, she heard a noise. It was small and high-pitched, like a squeak of a cyber-mouse. She paused, increasing her audio sensitivity. Perhaps it was just a hiss of the pipes, or perhaps the _Nemesis_ really did have a pest problem. But Arcee heard it again, and realized it was neither. It sounded more organic, more like—

“Jack!”

Awkwardly scurrying forward like an excited crocodile, Arcee hurried down another air duct that lead towards the source of the sound. The squeals steadily became louder and louder, until she came to a grate along one of the walls. She peered through the narrow slits with a single optic, only to see a veil of darkness. She had to readjust the brightness of her vision to recognize dark silhouettes of barren furniture, laid out across a broad room. In the center of that room was a massive berth. There was a tiny, asymmetrical shape curled up on it, moving ever so slightly.

Arcee didn’t hesitate. She activated her arm-blade and she sliced across the edges of the grate. The awful metallic sound echoed across the room, provoking a small, startled squawk. She then twisted around, planting both her pedes on the center of the grate. She kicked with both legs, again and again and again until the grate broke free, clattering onto the floor far below.

Arcee slipped through the gap she made, landing on her pedes with cat-like grace. Bright cerulean optics met dull blue eyes.

“Arcee?!”

“Jack!”

The guardian practically ran towards her partner, but as she approached him, she noticed something was wrong. The teenager had leaped to his feet in his fright of her noisy entrance, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. His eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks were wet with tears. He had been _crying_.

No, not just that. Judging by his short, shallow breaths, he had been hyperventilating for quite some time. No doubt another panic attack, brought on by the suffocating darkness around him. Or possibly, brought on by the bloody gashes along his cheek.

Arcee nearly shrieked, yet she captured Jack’s face with careful tenderness, tilting his head so she could see the full scope of the damage. They weren’t deep, merely a graze. They were already crusted over and the skin was flushed red as the surrounding blood vessels hurried to bring fresh blood—fresh _dark energon_ —to heal the wound. Still, the realization of what happened filled Arcee with unbridled fury.

“He hurt you,” she hissed lowly, barely able to keep the tremor from her voice.

Jack must have sensed her distress, slowly slipping out of her hold as he stammered, “W-we got into a fight. It… it was my fault. He got mad—”

“ _Don’t_ make excuses for him.”

The traumatized teenager clipped his mouth shut, swallowing thickly at her sharp seethe. It explained why he was left alone without any light, a condition surely even Megatron knew would trigger him. It was a _punishment_. A quick scan around the chambers confirmed the warlord was not here.

“Where is Megatron?” Arcee demanded.

“He left,” Jack answered hesitantly. “He went to deal with Starscream by the bridge—”

“ _Starscream_ is onboard?”

The boy nodded in confirmation. Arcee sucked in a breath. She was surprised the treacherous snake would show his face on the _Nemesis,_ after Megatron had tried to execute him. She was surprised he made it onto the ship at all. Wasn’t he earthbound, after MECH robbed him of his T-cog? Arcee expected the flightless Seeker to be scavenging in the wilds like some scraplet. The fact that Starscream was here made things more complicated.

But it didn’t change the mission.

“Come on, we have to go,” she ordered. She reached out to Jack, only for the boy to slip away. She blinked. “Jack?”

Her charge didn’t even look at her, speaking low and pitifully, “I… I can’t leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

Arcee made another scan across Jack’s body, looking for any chains or restraints. When she found none, she peered around the room to make sure there was no peering eyes watching them. When she confirmed they were in the clear, she was all the more confused when the human shuffled his weight.

“He’ll come after me again.”

“We’ll stop him,” Arcee vowed.

“How?” Jack looked up at that, watery eyes filled with anger and hurt. “Every time you promise to protect me, something bad happens. People die, because of _me_.”

The self-loathing statement cut Arcee off before she could think of a reply. Then she realized why Jack was truly upset, how he got captured in the first place.

“You saw what happened to the envoy,” Arcee realized with a horrified gasp.

Her partner gulped and looked away. “Soundwave didn’t close the groundbridge in time.”

“Oh, Jack…” Carefully, tenderly, she laid her servo across his uninjured cheek. She angled his head to look back at her, so Arcee could peer into those watery eyes. “This was not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“I feel like it is. Megatron… he said I’m denying who I really am. That I’m meant to be a killer…”

Instantly the Autobot’s armor flared with horrified anger. Did the tyrant have no shame, no boundaries? To corrupt a _child,_ filling his head with such lies?

But rather than let her rage show, she kept her voice soft and soothing as she assured, “No. No, you’re not. You’re kind, you’re compassionate. You _care_ about what happens to others.”

“But everyone around me gets hurt. My friends, my family, good people! What if something happens to the Autobots? What if I lose you?”

“You won’t lose me, Jack.”

“How do you know?”

“Because partners stick together.”

Jack blinked when his own words were echoed back at him. Words he had told her so long ago, when Arcee saw him as no more than a liability. But now? Now she was sure. She wasn’t going to Megatron take him away from her.

She shifted her hold to squeeze Jack’s shoulder, comforting and firm at the same time as she ordered quietly, “We have to leave.”

“I can’t,” Jack moaned miserably. “I can’t, I _can’t_! I don’t want anyone else to die! I _don’t_!”

His voice rose higher and higher with each word, until his panicked shout pierced the air. Arcee wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself. She realized she had to calm him down, and quickly. There was no telling when Megatron would return. After a moment of thought, she decided to take a risk. 

She tightened her grip on his shoulder, gaining his attention. Then she spoke, barely above a whisper, as if there were unwanted ears listening to them, “We’re going to attack the ship.”

“Wh-what?” Jack blinked.

His voice had becomes high and shrill, telling he was on the verge of having another panic attack. A slight tremor coursed through his body, and Arcee had a suspicion it wasn’t just because of the chilly air.

She wondered if he understood her at all, so she repeated, “We’re attacking the ship. Mirage and Wheeljack are here, too. Once we call reinforcements, this whole place is going to become a battleground.” Then she stressed with a sharp hiss, “So we got to get out of here. _Now_.”

Jack merely stared at Arcee as if she was speaking another language, so she feared she failed to convince him. She didn’t _want_ to take him by force, but for his safety, she would drag him back to base if she had to.

Then, finally, he murmured with a slight nod, “O-Okay.”

It wasn’t a jubilant cry of joy, nor did he look any more assured. In fact, he appeared just as tortured as when she first entered. At least his breathing had evened a bit. Still, Arcee moved slowly and cautiously, like she was nearing a frightened animal. Jack didn’t protest when she took him in her arms, even slinging one limb around her neck.

Quickly realizing the only way out was her way in, Arcee vaulted up the wall to reach the open air duct far above. With Jack in her arms, it was an awkward climb with her compromised balance, but she managed to slip through the small alcove and carefully deposited Jack on the metal flooring. The human was small enough to stand at a comfortable height, so Arcee let him take the lead, leaving the dark prison behind them.

* * *

The halls of the _Nemesis_ were quiet, despite the alarm that there was an intruder onboard. Dreadwing had offered to send a squadron of troops to intercept Starscream, but Megatron denied it. He wanted to deal with his treacherous second-in-command himself. It was high time he finished what he started long ago. Besides, he was in the mood to kill something.

Jack’s venomous words continued to echo in his helm, _“Is that all I am to you?! A tool?”_

Megatron was insulted. He had not gone through so much trouble, wasted so much energy, just for Jack to be some trinket. He did not want the human stuffed in some cage or posted onto some shelf. Megatron wanted Jack stand by his side, loyal to him and _only_ him.

Yet Decepticon leader only saw seething hatred in the boy’s eyes. Hatred for _him_.

It’s the Autobots’ doing, Megatron realized. They filled the boy’s head with their arrogant sense of righteousness. All of the dictator’s hard work, washed down the drain, as Jack would say. But Megatron would get rid of Autobots’ corruption. He would be beat it out of the insolent teenager, if he had to. Jack would see. Megatron would _make_ him see.

The warlord’s train of thought came to an end as he rounded a corner. Only to be greeted with a mutilated drone.

Slumped against the wall, it looked like it had been torn apart by an Insecticon. Energon leaked from gaping wounds and sparks flew from severed power lines. Not usually Starscream’s taste. Then again, Megatron had seen him gift lowly Autobot soldiers a slow and agonizing death. The rogue Seeker must have also been in a bad mood.

Not taking any chances, Megatron activated his fusion cannon with a deadly hum. He had it raised and primed as the door to the bridge yawned open. Normally the command center would be filled with noise—the shuffling of troops, the sound of claws clacking on keypads, and the beeps and rings of monitors. Yet Megatron was greeted with utter silence.

In the corner of his vision, he noticed several more massacred Decepticons strewn about the bridge. Poor Breakdown was sprawled across the floor, a sizeable dent on his blind side of his helm. Judging by his staggered vents, the mech was alive, but damaged. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. He had been posted at the bridge, and must have been ambushed before he could properly defend it. The drones were destroyed in the resulting battle.

Megatron glanced up, seeing the one responsible.

 _“Starscream,”_ the tyrant growled, deep and low, like he was uttering a curse.

The ex-Air Commander had the gall to stand at the central controls, wings perked and claws behind his back, as if he owned the place. A single red optic glanced over a polished pauldron.

 _“Megatron,”_ Starscream greeted in a sultry purr. _“It has come time to settle old scores.”_

The Decepticon leader barked out a laugh. _“Oh, really? All on your own?”_

Although Starscream was once the head of his military, savage might had never been one of the Vosian’s strong suits. The Decepticon leader’s greater strength was the only thing keeping Starscream from openly defying against him. His sharpest weapon had always been his wits. However, considering Starscream snuck aboard the Nemesis just to challenge Megatron to a fight, _alone_ , was nullifying that notion.

 _“Actually,”_ a chorus of voices echoed.

It was the closest the tyrant had come to a start in millennia. He whirled around, only to be greeted with not one, not two, but _three_ more Starscreams. Somehow they had completely surrounded him, cutting off any escape. They stood far enough apart so Megatron could not attack one without provoking the others. Especially considered they all had their missiles trained at his helm.

For a split-moment, the mech thought he was trapped in a glitched memory playback. After resetting his optics, Megatron realized it was very much real. So there was only one other explanation.

 _“Clones,”_ the dictator realized. 

He wondered how Starscream managed it. Though possible, cloning technology had long been banned on Cybertron. The High Council decided that bringing sparks back from the Well was immoral, and Primus-forbid there would be _two_ of the same individual walking around. However, those arguments were cast aside at the height of the war. Shockwave especially enjoyed drabbling in it, restoring creatures that had been lost to the tides of time. Perhaps Starscream hijacked one of his lost projects.

 _“Well played, Starscream,”_ Megatron praised. _“If you are even here among your underlings.”_

“ ** _Underlings_**?!” the clones repeated as one, filling the air with haunting echoes. _“We are as one, though many!”_

As if one Starscream wasn’t aggravating enough, but a whole armada of power-hungry stooges? The thought gave Megatron an idea.

 _“Bring me Starscream—the **real** Starscream—and I will reward you as my second-in-command,” _the Decepticon leader promised. Then with a devious smirk, he added, _“ **All** of you.”_

It was an echo of the vow he had told Starscream long ago, and the exiled Prince had practically thrown himself at the tyrant’s pedes. It seemed the clones had the urge to do the same, as they exchanged perplexed glances.

 _“No! You are trying to trick us!”_ they eventually decided on.

 _“Am I?”_ Megatron couldn’t help but smile widely as placed his hands on his hips. Clones or not, they were still Starscream. He went on, _“Accept my offer, and we all win. Otherwise, you will only end up terminating each other to get the spoils. It is your nature, after all.”_

Sure enough, the clones became even more uneasy, shifting their weight and flicking their wings. They looked between themselves, like they were pondering to aid or attack the other. However, apparently there was only one thing Starscream desired more than power.

 _“No! Don’t listen!”_ the clones roared. Suddenly their attention snapped to Megatron, crimson eyes gleaming with deadly intent. _“Prepare to perish at my hand! **Our** hands!”_

The Decepticon lord scowled in disappointment. It seemed he had to do it the hard way, then. He activated battle protocols and prepared to unsheathe his sword. He could take out one clone in the first strike. The others would be more troublesome. But the Champion of Kaon had dealt with odds worse than this. Only Megatron never had the chance to pounce.

Without warning, the world listed with a terrible groan. The warlord stumbled as the deck trembled, but he managed to stay on his pedes. The clones weren’t so lucky. Balancing on thin, high-heeled thrusters, they keeled over at the violent tremor with startled squawks.

 _“Ugh...”_ the clones collectively groaned. _“What was that?”_

One glanced up, only to be greeted by the barrel of Megatron’s fusion cannon. The warlord smiled.

_“The sound of the tables turning.”_

He fired, sending a superheated bolt of dark energon straight into the clone’s spark. Fire, smoke, and energon erupted from his chest, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Megatron didn’t pause to admire his handiwork. With a speed and grace defying his titanic frame, he spun around, unleashing another bolt into another clone, who was still clambering to his pedes. The clone fell with a howl of agony.

It was then a high-pitched shriek assaulted Megatron’s audios, prompting him to twist around, only to be greeted with a flash of deadly claws. The clone went soaring in flash of purple, crashing into a nearby workstation and clattering to the floor, dead.

Three shots. Three clones. All in a matter of seconds. Was this really the best scheme Starscream could fabricate?

The only one that remained was the first clone Megatron encountered. He was curled up on the floor, mouth agape, optics wide and bright, and shivering. It was truly a delicious sight.

 _“As if it wasn’t gratifying enough killing you the first three times!”_ the Decepticon leader laughed, nearing the downed Seeker with his fusion raised, ready to lay waste.

The clone’s optics darted back and forth, no doubt trying to find a way to save his own miserable hide. When he found none, he chose a method that was typical for Starscream.

 _“Master, please, I beg you, have mercy!”_ the clone begged in a shrill voice, the same one the second-in-command would often use before a brutal beating. _“I can show you where the original is! We can take him down, together!”_

 _“I truthfully don’t care you’re not the original,”_ Megatron retorted. _“Your spark will suffice all the same.”_

_“Wait—”_

The clone’s cry was cut off with a final shot to the helm, the light of the blast reflecting off the tyrant’s sneering face. It was then the air was filled with blissful silence. The bridge was still a mess, but the cleaning drones could handle it. Megatron let out a scoff as he lowered his weapon. He was relieved the whole ordeal was over with, but was frustrated that he had to deal with it in the first place. He had better things to do than be bothered by deranged traitors. Like Jack.

They needed to finish their _discussion_. Hopefully the boy was had enough time with his thoughts that he would be more tame when Megatron returned. He usually was, whenever he was left in the dark. With that in mind, the Decepticon began to turn. Only to feel a foreign EM field brush up against his back.

Megatron stiffened. Another clone?

 _No_.

Recovering before a full pause could hang in the air, Megatron spun around, unsheathing his sword in the same motion. Thrusting it into the shimmering air. Burying the blade into Mirage.

His illusion shattered, the black walls of the _Nemesis_ were replaced by bright crimson. Pieces of the Autobot’s plating appeared one by one, almost like a figure made of stained glass was being made before Megatron’s optics. When the interloper was finally revealed, he found that he caught the red Autobot right underneath the chest armor, digging the sword straight into the spark.

Mirage’s little servos were wrapped around the base of the weapon—Megatron’s wrist—as if he was trying to rip it back out. But instead his body was frozen—mouth fallen agape and his optics wide, their electric-blue glow flickering madly. Mirage’s vents were strained and shallow, like he was trying to bring in a fresh intake, only to fail. Megatron smiled as he watched the poor Autobot’s plight.

 _“A busy day for **assassins** ,”_ he sneered.

Then with a flick of his wrist, he removed his sword from his victim and returned it to its sheathe. Mirage let out a wet, strangled sound as a gush of energon poured from the gaping wound, adding to the growing pools on the floor. The Autobot, persistent as always, fought to remain on his pedes. He took a step forward. Megatron took a step back, just in time as gravity finally captured the dying mech.

Mirage fell with a terrible crash. His engine let out one final sputter before his optics faded to black. 

At least now there was one less Autobot to worry about. Yet Megatron didn’t feel very self-assured for very long. How did one even manage to sneak aboard his ship?

The Autobots were mostly composed of grounders. They had no means of flight, no way to track the _Nemesis._ Even if they somehow _did_ infiltrate the warship, Soundwave would have located them with his surveillance system. Though Mirage was an unusual case with his unique ability to cloak himself. It explained why he was arrogant enough to believe he could catch Megatron by surprise, but to actually come _alone_?

 _No_ , Megatron realized. _The Autobots never work alone._

There were more on his ship. And there was only one thing they could be after.

Sucking in a breath of agitation, he whirled around to hurry back to his quarters, back to Jack. Only he never made it out of the bridge. Megatron stumbled as suddenly the world around him shook, more violently than before. He just barely managed to catch himself, digging his heels into the ground to keep himself steady.

 _“Now what?”_ he growled out.

A reverberating groan was his reply, like the very walls around him had come to life. Megatron stiffened. Could it be? No, it was impossible—

His train of thought was interrupted when the floor suddenly listed. This time he _did_ lose his balance, floundering across the bridge like an overcharged fool. Megatron ended up over by a workstation, digging his claws until the console and activating the magnets in his pedes for good measure. He didn’t need to rely on his gyrostabilizers to see the floor was becoming a steeper and steeper incline, to the point that a couple of the husks on the ground began to slide to one wall.

Alarms began to blare, a haunting, ghost-like sound that was filled with dread. The cool light began to flash a panicked red. Warning messages appeared on the screens all around Megatron. He glanced at the one before him. Only for his spark to freeze as a unwelcomed, frigid sensation seeped into his chest: _fear_.

This time, it was not an echo of Jack’s emotions.

It was his own, and for good reason.

The _Nemesis_ was in freefall.

* * *

Their progress wasn’t going as quickly as Arcee hoped.

Jack trudged along, his head hanging low like a kicked puppy. Arcee would occasionally nudge his back to encourage him, but it would only pick up the pace for a few steps. The Autobot realized she should have expected this. Jack tended to fall into a depressed state after a bad episode. Megatron’s words that were no doubt still lurking in his mind were not helping. Arcee would have to ask him what precisely the warlord said, but it would have to wait until later. Now, they had to get off this boat.

The two-wheeler’s thoughts were interrupted when the world suddenly shuddered.

Arcee stumbled as the quake radiated from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her wings. Jack swayed with a startled yelp.

“What was that?” he asked, bracing himself against a nearby wall as the dark metal around them groaned, like a pained beast. 

Before Arcee had the chance to come up with an educated guess, a ring pierced her comlink. It was a hail from Wheeljack.

The femme fought a huff. She had told him to maintain radio _silence_! She had the urge to ignore him, but the growing sense of dread in her tanks overruled her judgement and she accepted the communication request.

 _“Wheeljack? What’s going on?”_ she demanded instantly.

 _“Hey, Arcee,”_ the Wrecker greeted all too casually. _“Thought I’d give you a heads-up.”_

_“About what?”_

_“Um,_ _I couldn’t find the Cons’ cloaking device,”_ Wheeljack reported, hesitating as there was another tremor, more powerful than the first. _“So I decided to improvise.”_

It was only then the growing dread vanished, quickly replaced by agitated fury.

 _“Wheeljack,”_ Arcee snarled. _“What did you **do**?”_

A message appeared on her HUD, triggered by an alert from her gyrostabilizer. Was the ship listing?

_“Uh… you might want to hold on to something.”_

With that, Wheeljack ended the communication, just as the metallic growl turned into a deep roar. Another alert from her gyrostabilizer. Yes, the ship was _definitely_ listing.

Arcee made the observation just as Jack let out a startled scream. His weight leaning against the wall, the sudden change caught him off balance, sending him face-first onto the floor and sliding down the air duct. With a sharp gasp, the guardian lunged towards him like a feline. She caught the charge with an outstretched servo, just before he slipped out of reach.

Arcee brought Jack close to her chest, and this time he did not hesitate to latch onto her. Acting quickly, she twisted around so that she could plant her heels into one side of the air duct while she braced her back against the opposite wall. It was hard as the ship continuously quivered around her, more and more violently until Arcee had to dig her digits into the metal to stay in place. She did not need her gyrostabilizers to determine that in a matter of seconds, the air duct had went from perfectly horizontal to nearly vertical.

Which only meant one thing.

That foolish Wrecker was going to get them all killed.

“WHEELJAAACK!!!”


	7. Brace For Impact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! The horrible year of 2020 is finally over, and what better way to celebrate the coming of 2021 with an update? Bit of a filler chapter, but the action really starts to pick up after this.
> 
> As I’m sure many of you know that I like to tie my works into the bounds of realism as much as possible. As such, I based this chapter from the movies “Sully” and “Flight,” which were based on real plane crashes.

Megatron’s first act was to question how such a thing could have happened. Then two answers came to him at the same time. Starscream? Or the Autobots?

He wouldn’t put it past either of them. Starscream _had_ come to terminate him, but the Seeker made it clear it was because he wanted to rule the Decepticons himself. He wouldn’t destroy a whole army just to get to Megatron, an army he wished to lead. More importantly, Starscream wouldn’t destroy his only way off this Primus-forsaken planet.

As for the Autobots, surely they wouldn’t go so far? Optimus had quite a distaste for suicide missions. He wouldn’t send his subordinates to sacrifice themselves for the cause, especially when their numbers were so few. He especially wouldn’t danger the humans that were spread across nearly the entire surface of the Earth, along with their precious pet still onboard. Then again, as many times as they left Jack in the dust, Megatron wouldn’t be surprised. And with their resources limited and weary from the long war, it only made sense that the Autobots would become more ruthless.

Well, whatever had occurred, it did not change the current situation. The _Nemesis_ was losing altitude and _fast_. At this rate, it was only a matter of minutes before it left a very large crater in the planet. And it was completely obliterated.

Megatron somehow had to find a way to control its descent. Usually he had a whole crew tasked with operating and piloting the _Nemesis._ Now that entire crew was neutralized, save for—

A deep, pained moan interrupted his train of thought.

Breakdown!

In all the excitement, Megatron had nearly forgotten the Decepticon was still alive, left bleeding and broken on the floor. The Decepticon leader whirled around to find that the burly mech was stirring awake. His lone optic was flickering weakly and his limbs shifted as he slowly attempted to gain his bearings. Too slow.

 _“Get up,”_ Megatron barked as he stomped over to his subordinate and grasped a thick arm. Breakdown was the only mech on the ship whose size rivaled the former Champion, so he couldn’t lift him by himself. Getting Breakdown to his pedes would have to take more persuasion. Megatron tugged insistently, repeating, _“I said **get up**!”_

Still recovering from a nasty blow to the processor, Breakdown was sluggish to register the situation around him. He failed to hear Megatron’s growls or the blaring alarms, or detect the claws digging into his protoform, or the fact the ground was nearly vertical now. He simply stared at his lord as if he was a stranger.

 _“Wh-wha?”_ Breakdown stammered. Finally, just when Megatron was about to howl in frustration, clarity finally returned to the mech. His optic went wide and bright, but his shout was still laced with slurred confusion _. “Wha’s goin’ on?”_

 _“We’ve lost power,”_ Megatron answered bluntly.

It took a full moment to Breakdown to scan his surroundings. His optics widened even further at the sight of the decimated husks basked in red light. Producing another question.

_“What happened?”_

_“There’s no time to explain!”_ Megatron retorted impatiently. They were wasting precious seconds. Seconds they did not have. _“If we do not restore the ship, we **all** will be exterminated!”_

The foreboding statement seemed to finally rouse Breakdown into action. With a pained groan, he climbed to his pedes. Megatron half-supported, half-dragged the massive mech until he was completely upright. He then urged Breakdown towards one of the workstations, while he moved to the main console. The warlord had to leap over two husks to reach it, only to find a Starscream clone draped across the controls. He unceremoniously threw the thing to the floor, just as Breakdown let out a wail of dismay.

_“Oh, scrap! Our power core has been compromised!”_

Megatron cursed. That explained the complete system failure. Without an optimal source, the array of mighty engines had begun to cripple in a matter of moments. With no electricity, there was no way for the _Nemesis_ to navigate. With no thrust, the entire ship was sent out of the sky.

 _“What is the status of the secondary power core?”_ the Decepticon leader demanded.

_“Uh… secondary is at 43% energon capacity!”_

It was only enough to power basic systems, but it would work. Megatron would have to thank Shockwave personally for having the ingenious idea to have it installed. That is, if they survived all of this.

 _“Reboot the systems! Activate it!”_ he barked.

_“Affirmative!”_

There was a lengthy pause as Breakdown inputted the commands. The console screens and even emergency lights flickered off as their source of electricity was interrupted, cloaking the bridge in total darkness. The blaring alarms were deactivated, filling the air with dreadful, suffocating silence, save for the violent trembling of metal all around them. Megatron counted every nanoklik that went by, calculating how much closer to the Earth they were for each one.

It did not help matters that the _Nemesis_ hadn’t been far up into the atmosphere. In order to refuel, the ship had to be close to the ground. Once it had been filled, it took off, but the _Nemesis_ had yet to make it to the orbit. Now it may never reach the upper atmosphere ever again.

Cursed to the same fate as the _Harbinger_.

The ship that had first brought Megatron upon this wretched planet.

The warlord still remembered that horrid day. There had been an electrical failure throughout the ship, compromising everything from the navigation to the engines. Megatron and his crew of lowly Decepticons had been helpless as the ship plummeted towards the planet. It crashed into the icy regions of the northern pole, sinking into the frigid waters and was swallowed up by the ocean forever. Megatron’s subordinates did not survive. They were the lucky ones.

They were not frozen in their own frame, waiting for centuries, wondering if others would ever come. They were not left at the mercy of greedy, foul organics, that eagerly tore Megatron apart for their own amusement.

_No! Not again! I will not fall again!_

Just as the Decepticon lord made the silent vow, his dark world was illuminated with light as systems re-activated with a hum. Diagnostics filled the screens before Megatron, reminding him there was still a critical error that needed to be addressed.

Megatron thought quickly. They needed to slow the warship’s descent, if they were to have any hope of regaining control. Only the _Nemesis_ was not the most aerodynamic vessel. It had been designed to travel across the vacuum of space, not cut through a planet’s atmosphere. It was amazing it moved as efficiently as it did, with all the drag from the—

Megatron had an idea.

 _“Have all the energon rerouted to the transformation seams!”_ he ordered.

Breakdown just blinked at him, echoing dumbly, _“Um, transforma—”_

Megatron cut him off. _“Just do it!”_

 _“Y-yes, master!”_ At his lord’s snarl, Breakdown quickly did was he was told, only to report a moment later, _“Lord Megatron, the T-cog is locked!”_

The tyrant sucked in an agitated breath. Of course it was. He was the one that locked it in the first place.

 _“Override,”_ he commanded. He then hastily told Breakdown the code, who echoed him as he inputted the password.

_“T-cog is reactivated!”_

_“Extend the spines across the ship, as much as the seams will allow.”_

Aside from a confused stutter, Breakdown did what he was told, reprogramming the T-cog to send the commands to the outer projections. They were hardly more than extensions of the exoskeleton, mostly serving as deterrents against rival ships carrying boarding parties. However, they were also somewhat useful for riding on air currents.

Megatron heard the distant groan as the exterior of the _Nemesis_ shifted. The two spines protruding from the bow began to abduct from the main body of the ship, opening wider like a maw of a monster. He couldn’t help but grind his denta at the reverberating noise, but he did not let his misgivings get the better of him.

He had only awakened the T-cog, not the mind. The mind was still in slumber. As it always will be.

The shaking all around Megatron only seemed to worsen, to the point that he had to cling onto the console before him to stay upright. However, it was a trade-off he was willing to accept, as Breakdown reported, _“We’re deaccelerating!”_

Glancing at the monitors around him, Megatron confirmed Breakdown’s observation. The speedometer was decreasing and the warlord had the chance to read their current altitude. He cursed when he recognized they had already sunk below the cloud cover. The panels taking up the front of the bridge were filled with lush green of the organic earth below—an alien, disturbing view that should _never_ be present on the bridge of the _Nemesis_.

It was only then Megatron realized: the warship wouldn’t recover in time. They were going to crash. All he could do now was control the extent of the damage.

 _“Dump all our fuel, immediately!”_ Megatron commanded, only for Breakdown to sputter as the bizarre order.

_“But, my liege—”_

_“DO IT!”_

At his bellow, the Decepticon hastily did what he was told, servos flying across the keys. Megatron wasn’t keen on the idea, either—especially with their energon storage at full capacity—but he had little choice. Aside from his life-giving properties, energon was extremely flammable. All it would take was a single spark to send their stores up in flames, which could cascade across the ship in a catastrophic explosion.

There was a distant whirr and the _Nemesis_ shuddered again, like an animal reeling at the sight of losing its own blood. The warmonger wasn’t sure what effect the energon would have on Earth’s atmosphere, or the countless inhabitants below, he truthfully didn’t care. It wasn’t helpful knowing that it would take some time before the energon stores were emptied. Megatron doubted that it would all be ejected.

He would have to take matters in his own servos, then. His talons glided across the controls before him, inputting a code only known by he and his High Command.

 _“I’m taking manual control,”_ he announced, just as the console before him shifted and two levers took shape, each fitting perfectly with the titan’s large servos.

 _“You’re going to do **what**?!” _Breakdown squawked, but Megatron did not dignify him with an explanation.

Instead, he braced his heels against the smooth flooring to steady himself. Then without further preamble, he pulled.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when he was only greeted with resistance. Megatron had to pull with all his strength. He pressed against the ground for leverage, straining so hard that he growled through gritted denta. Bound to the body of the ship, the levers could only sway so far, as they tried to drag the colossal chassis along with them. The _Nemesis_ growled in protest.

It was hard to split his focus between rerouting his energon to his pistons and reading the telemetry around him. He did not know if the _Nemesis_ was still in a sharp dive or it had leveled out. He did not know if they were moments away from termination or if they were spared. Megatron only knew that levers began to give way. Little by little, they began to move. Soon he became aware that the powerful tremors gradually began to lessen. Deafening roars quieted to vengeful hisses.

 _“We’re stabilizing!”_ Breakdown told, though Megatron was hardly assured.

He had managed to pull them out of the dive, but they were still descending. And they were frighteningly low. Looking at the panels before him, the Decepticon leader could see the details of the terrain below. Rolling hills were sprawled across the land, blanketed by lush grass. Only a handful of trees dotted the landscape. At least there were few obstacles that could damage the ship’s hull, but at the same time, there was nothing to stop its momentum.

Megatron wanted to pull away from the wretched sight. He wanted to force the ship to rise up into the air and take to the skies. But the levers were pulled back as far as they could go. He could already feel the strain in his seams as he struggled to hold the increasing weight. Even with all his power and endurance, the former Champion could only bear it for so long.

Perhaps their doom was inevitable.

Yet Megatron was not dismayed. No, he was filled with black, bitter rage. He had not gotten so far, survived so much, to meet his end like this. He had defied his destiny again and again! He was the master of his own fate! He would not be robbed of control—control that was his!

Without further delay, Megatron connected his commlink with the ship’s communication system. It compromised his focus, but he did not care. He only had one thought in mind.

_“ **Brace for impact**!”_

Then with all his power, the mad tyrant pushed the levers forward. 

The _Nemesis_ collided into the Earth.

* * *

Jack never really liked roller coasters.

Unlike Miko, he never considered himself as an adrenaline junkie. He didn’t understand the appeal of being strapped to a plastic chair and being launched at nearly a hundred miles an hour. Forced high in the air, taking so many twists and turns that he was nauseous by the end of it. Jack only went on such a ride once, and he would never go again. Apparently a gargantuan warship falling from the sky was a lot like a roller coaster.

The teenager found himself being jerked around in so many directions, so suddenly and so violently that it felt like his neck was going to snap in half. More than once, his head collided with the hard metal of Arcee’s chassis, having pain blossom across his skull. The femme’s arms were wrapped around Jack, the only thing keeping him in place as they were jostled around like potatoes in a burlap sack.

The teenager could feel his stomach in his _throat_. His hearing was muffled, as his ears continuously popped from the rapidly changing pressure. Yet he was still able to hear the almighty noise coming from all around him. It sounded like a thousand thunderclaps were happening at once. Along the screams of metal were the ghost-like wails of the alarms. At some point, they turned off like a flip of a switch, only to be replaced by shouts of terror and panic. Jack thought the lights flickered, but he wasn’t sure.

He wasn’t even sure how long the traumatizing ride lasted. It could have been seconds, minutes. It felt like an eternity.

Even then, it was all too soon when Megatron’s rough voice reverberated through the halls, _“ **Brace for impact**!”_

It was the only warning before disaster. It was like being a car wreck—sudden and brutal and terrifying. The stomach lodged in Jack’s throat lurched before he was flung forward—and out of Arcee’s arms. She cried out, but the sound was swallowed up by the catastrophic noise of mangling metal. Jack tumbled down the air duct like a ragdoll, coming to a grinding halt as he _slammed_ into a solid wall.

There was a sickening _pop_ , the same moment a wave of agony erupted from his shoulder. Jack didn’t even register his pained scream. He must have blacked out for a moment, because suddenly servos were upon him, frantic and concerned. Pulling him back into Arcee’s protective hold. 

“Hang on, Jack,” he heard her soothe in his ear.

It was hard. The pain in his shoulder radiated down to his arm, making it hard to move. His head was throbbing like someone was hammering an anvil behind his eyes. His neck and the rest of his limbs were sore. There wasn’t a single bone in his body that _wasn’t_ in pain. 

So Jack curled pitifully against Arcee’s side, waiting for it all to finally end. Just when the boy convinced himself that it would never stop, suddenly the displaced organs in his body fell back into place. The shaking became less and less. The pandemonium became quieter and quieter. Until, finally, _finally,_ the air became still and silent.

It was several long moments before Arcee loosened her bear hug on Jack, relieving the pressure on his ribs. He didn’t even notice he hadn’t even been breathing. Slowly, cautiously, he untangled himself from his guardian. He had just straightened when there was a distant _pop_ of metal, but loud enough to make him jump. Only to regret it as a sharp throb came from his shoulder. Jack hissed through his teeth, but he managed to stand on his own.

Then he realized. He could _stand_. On solid, unmoving metal. Did that mean…

“Is… is it over?” Jack asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Arcee assured, though her wings were still hiked up, alert and anxious. “Are you okay?”

“Had better days.”

His partner probably wanted a different response, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. The femme frowned, but said nothing. Instead she turned her attention to the grate above them, wedging her blades into the metal edges like how she forced herself into Megatron’s quarters.

“Come on, we need to get out of here,” she said as she lifted the grate and slid it to the side.

“What happened to being sneaky?” Jack asked.

“I think it’s safe to say that’s thrown out the window.”

The boy couldn’t disagree. If Megatron didn’t know if something was wrong before, he definitely knew now. Jack wondered if he was okay. He made to reach out over the bond, but he stopped himself.

What was he _doing_? Why should he care? A matter of minutes ago, Megatron had nearly killed him. If anything, he should be wishing any sort of ill fate to befall the menace. Yet the idea of Megatron being hurt or trapped or simply left _alone_ , made Jack’s stomach knot. He didn’t voice his sentiments aloud, though. Arcee was sensitive was their relationship, especially when it came to the blood-bond. So he banished the sinful thoughts from his mind and placed a wall around his psyche.

Then for the numerous time that day, he allowed himself to be picked up like a doll as Arcee plucked him out of the confines of the air duct. By some intervention of Primus, the corridor was barren, but Jack pondered for how long. Arcee must have had the same thought as she promptly transformed into a sleek motorcycle. Hearing the wordless order, he swung his leg over the saddle and took hold of the handles.

When he had fully settled, Arcee took off with a sharp rev of her engine. Now they only had to find their way out, before Megatron’s wrath rained down on them. 

Lennox anxiously paced back and forth the length of his office. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t make himself sit down or keep his hands still. He continuously ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair or fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeve. He was aware he must have looked ridiculous. He was supposed to be a commander. He was supposed to be calm and collected. He was supposed to think rationally. Instead, Lennox felt like a green rookie stepping into his first post.

It had been several hours since Arcee and her team went radio silent. Several hours of not knowing what was happening. Not knowing where they were, or if they were okay. The lieutenant colonel couldn’t help but wonder if he made the wise decision, letting them go on their own. Even as the thought occurred to him, he quickly dismissed it.

No, this mission required stealth. Tiny humans, no matter how skilled they were, would only get in the way. But what if something went wrong? Should he alert British forces?

The United Kingdom was one of the few other countries that recognized the existence of Transformers. In fact, they shared custody Diego Garcia, a joint military base that served as the new headquarters of the Autobots. Well, that was until most of the ‘Bots moved to Cape Canaveral, to be closer to Jack and “all the excitement.”

Which was why there was a lively buzz coursing through the base. Apparently news about the stealth mission had already gotten out, along with rumors of what would come after. The Autobots were quick to act—taking their energon rations, rebooting their weapon systems, and even taking a few toys from the armory. Naturally the humans were quick to follow.

Even from his quiet, remote office, Lennox could hear the clamor of his soldiers readying for battle. Eager shouts filtered through the walls, along with the marching of heavy boots on pavement and the revving of powerful engines. All they needed now was the word.

One that the lieutenant colonel was waiting to give.

Lennox was abruptly pulled from his thoughts as the door suddenly swung open. He couldn’t help but start, used to someone announcing themselves or at the very least _knocking_. But apparently Simmons was above such consideration.

“Colonel, I have a bone to pick with you,” the Sector Seven agent announced. Lennox honestly didn’t know if that was supposed to be some half-hearted greeting.

Instead of indulging the man, he rolled his eyes with a groan, “Simmons, I’m not in the mood to have a conversation right now.”

“Good. I’ll do the talking, then.”

Completely ignoring Lennox’s dismissal, Simmons sauntered over to the desk and settled in one of the chairs across from it. He had the nerve to lean back and cross one leg over the other, looking as comfortable as a person who was actually invited to commander’s reprieve.

Acting oblivious to the scathing glare he received, Simmons reported lightly, “So I’ve been hanging it out with ‘Bots for the last couple of hours.”

“Spying, you mean,” Lennox corrected, only to be replied with a shrug.

“Tomayto, tomahto.”

The ex-Ranger rolled his eyes. Realizing that Simmons wasn’t going away, he continued his pacing, listening the man drone on with half an ear.

“Anyway, some of them don’t exactly agree with the mission.”

“Let me guess: Ultra Magnus and Ironhide?”

“Along with Smokescreen and Sunstreaker.”

Lennox blinked at the news. He expected such skeptical behavior from the two war veterans, but both Smokescreen and Sunstreaker were young, still itching for their taste of battle. Then he remembered what the mission entailed—saving Jack from Decepticon custody—and he remembered that the ‘Bots that had very little interactions with the teenager. So in the end, it wasn’t surprising that they would agree with their commanding officers’ suspicions.

As if to confirm his conclusion, Simmons said, “They say it’s sure a whole lot of risk, just for one fleshy.” And then he must have felt he need to add, “Their words, not mine.”

“It’s not just about Jack. This is about turning the tides of the entire war. We do this right, we could end Megatron’s entire operation.”

“Or, we could be playing straight into Megatron’s hands.” Lennox paused at the somber tone, even rounding to face the other man. Sure enough, he found that gleam in Simmons’s eyes was gone, replaced by a dark daze as he went on, “Come on, Lennox, he’s been one step ahead of us this entire fight.”

It was then the lieutenant colonel caught on to what he was insinuating.

“You think it’s because of Jack. You’re convinced he’s a traitor, too?”

“‘Traitor’ is a strong word. But, before I got into Sector Seven, I did a lot of... espionage. I saw a lot of things. I saw people turn into different people. I saw kids, armed with—“

“Jack is not a terrorist!”

Simmons didn’t even flinch at Lennox’s shout. He didn’t even twitch, as the tall, broad-shouldered Army Ranger loomed over him. His gaze didn’t even waver, as he continued in that cool, iron tone, “Not yet. But word on the street is that Megatron can be pretty persuasive.”

“You’re talking about Stockholm syndrome.”

“Jack’s a good kid. He is. But I’ve talked to him. I’ve seen how Megatron’s gotten into his head. Literally, with that whole psychic mumbo jumbo thing.”

Lennox decided he had heard enough. He briskly turned away and put the desk between him and Simmons before he decided to punch the man for saying such blasphemous things. But as he kept his hands clenched by his sides, he could hear that cynical voice whispering in his head.

He had seen that dazed, traumatized look in Jack’s eyes more than once. There was no telling what he had seen, what was going on in his head. A mind that young—that _damaged_ —was easily mendable. What if it was true? That Megatron was morphing him into a monster? That he had already changed?

Another part of Lennox—the protective, parental instinct of a father—immediately rejected the idea. Jack wasn’t some wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was victim of other beasts that wanted to consume him. Heaven above, he was just was a _kid_.

“I am not arresting a child,” Lennox declared. “Not on a hunch.”

Simmons gave another half-shrug. “Fine. So will you arrest him before or after the invasion?”

The NEST commander opened his mouth to refute him, but didn’t have the chance to speak as door flew open— _again_. This time revealing a wide-eyed and winded Epps. It looked like he had sprinted across the entire base.

Lennox suspected he may as well have, judging by his breathless voice, “Colonel, you’re going to have to see this.”

* * *

“It just _fell_ from the sky?” Simmons gawked. “How does a giant, alien spaceship just fall from the sky?”

Apparently the former spy could only process information by repeating it aloud. He had been parroting the phrase ever since he and Lennox stepped out of the office, Epps still in tow. They walked down the wide corridors of the NEST base, headed towards the building’s command center. They should figure out what was going on from there.

“I guess we’re going to find out soon enough,” Lennox replied, though his tone was heavy from the gravity of the situation.

Even with his purposeful stride, it took them longer than it should have to reach the main HUB. The commander opened the door only to be greeted with mayhem. The air was filled with chatter and hurried movements as technicians and soldiers rushed from one side of the broad room to the other. They expertly snaked their way around rows and rows of computers, which could not have been an easy task. From what Lennox could see, every single one was occupied by analysts, absorbed by the information in front of them. The walls were covered in monitors, each one showing a different diagram or satellite image.

Including one that immediately captured the newcomers’ attention.

“Holy crap,” Simmons gasped. “You don’t see that every day.”

Lennox would have agreed, if his brain could process what he was looking at. A gargantuan ship with dark metal and sharp edges, giving it a menacing appearance.

The _Nemesis._

But something was terribly wrong.

Usually the lieutenant colonel would see the Decepticon warship as a blurry shape among the clouds in pictures taken either by cameras among the ground or by jet fighters on patrol. But instead the flying fortress was precariously balancing on the edge of a tall, cliff. Foamy, black waters crashed against the stone walls, almost reaching up to the _Nemesis_ itself.

Lennox was about to demand where the picture was taken, then he recognized the glaring white rock that made up the cliff face. Then he remembered where the Autobots were headed. Shit, those where the White Cliffs of Dover.

If the man remembered his geography correctly, the natural formation took several miles of England’s shore. It was mostly rural, explaining why there wasn’t any news of pandemonium, but it wasn’t exactly _isolated_. The cliffs were frequented by locals along with the flocks of tourists visiting the country. As well as any ship crossing the English Channel.

Lennox waved over a waiting private, demanding, “Any witness accounts?”

“Nothing circulating the internet yet, sir,” the man answered. “We’re still monitoring.”

“If you find _anything_ , flag it or take it down. Prep a meeting with the press.”

“What should we tell them?”

“Same shit we always say,” Lennox groaned with an exaggerated wave of his hands. “Bad test. Training exercise. I don’t care. Just something other than an evil spaceship.”

The private nodded and after he was dismissed, scurried away. As soon he disappeared, he was replaced by another figure.

“Fowler,” Lennox greeted as the liaison appeared. “I need you to find a way to get people out of the area. Call local authorities if you have to. Just say there was an accident and the region’s too unsafe, until we know what to tell the public.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Fowler assured. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Will.”

“How about a Decepticon warship?”

“Now that’s new.”

Other than raising his eyebrows with a flat frown, he didn’t seem that surprised. Lennox assumed he had handled so many catastrophes involving the Autobots that he was used to it by now. Fowler walked away, a phone already pressed against his ear. He stepped out of earshot just as he begun to speak, so Lennox could only guess what kind of story he was spinning from the top of his head. The colonel went on to the next course of action, turning to Epps beside him.

“Find our liaison with the British,” he ordered. “We’re going to need reinforcements.”

Epps blinked, echoing, “’We,’ sir?”

Lennox nodded solemnly, eyes narrowing. “Get the boys ready. It’s time to go to war.”


	8. Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, everyone! I've hit a bit of a wall with these next two chapters, but hopefully I'll be able to get them out soon!

When Megatron onlined, he was first aware of a dull ache coursing through his circuitry. The second thing he noticed was that his HUD was filled with alerts. Not detecting anything life-threatening, he dismissed them one by one until his vision was clear. It wasn’t until then he recognized that he was unceremoniously sprawled across the main console—a rather compromising position for a warlord. The force of the impact must have flung him forward and triggered a system reboot.

As Megatron peeled himself off of the controls with a grunt, memories of what just occurred began to emerge. So the _Nemesis_ really did crash-land. At least he managed to pull himself from stasis this time. However, it was hardly assuring as he became aware of the chaos around him.

A blaring alarm sounded, far louder and irritating than the first. Many of the monitors before Megatron were blackened, but one screen was still working, informing him that there were several fires burning throughout the ship. There were other messages, but there were too numerous to filter through all of them.

 _“Breakdown, damage report,”_ he called out, only to find the bulky mech was still pulling himself off the floor.

He was certainly worse for the wear—chassis covered in dents and scraps—but he managed to shuffle to the closest workstation. Only when he pressed the button to activate it, the console erupted in a shower of sparks. Breakdown fearfully winced away and promptly moved to another monitor. It was still operational, allowing the Decepticon to skim over the countless number of glyphs.

 _“All major systems have received critical damage, master,”_ he reported reluctantly, only to flinch again when Megatron cursed rather loudly.

Perhaps the _Nemesis_ was doomed. Broken and stranded on an alien world, with no resources to repair the ship. Earth’s materials were hardly a fitting substitute for Cybernite. It would be some time before it was airborne again, if at all. It did not help matters that they were practically surrounded by enemies. Megatron reaffirmed their location by checking their coordinates, finding they had crashed along the shores of an island nation. He couldn’t recall the precise name, but he had been told by Soundwave that they were an ally of the Autobots. Meaning they could be very well involved in this fiasco.

And what of the crew? Did any of them even survive?

Curiosity getting the best of him, Megatron hailed the first frequency that came to mind. _“Dreadwing, what is your condition?”_

There was a pained groan on the other end of the commlink, but his second-in-command managed a reply, _“Functional,_ _my liege.”_

 _“Report to the bridge, immediately.”_ Not waiting for a response, Megatron went on to the next officer. _“Knock Out, what is the damage to the medbay?”_

 _“Never mind that!”_ the medic retorted, his voice rising to quite a dramatic wail, _“My finish!_ _It’s **ruined**!”_

Megatron ended the transmission, determining that Knock Out was just fine. As long as the only medic in his ranks was operational. When he hailed Shockwave, the logical scientist knew what was expected.

 _“I am well, Lord Megatron,”_ the mech assured.

 _“Good to hear, Shockwave. You are needed in the medbay. Assist Knock Out_ _with any repairs that are required.”_

_“As you wish.”_

Megatron was about to continue on to the final member of his High Command, only for the doors to the bridge to open with a hydraulic hiss. After all the excitement, he reflexively bristled, only to sigh in relief at the sight of Soundwave. His third-in-command was calm and collected as ever, like they didn’t just have a near-death experience, stepping into the command center with an even stride. Megatron should have expected as much. Soundwave was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

The Decepticon leader turned to him, asking through gritted fangs, _“How did this happen?”_

Soundwave only needed a moment to scan through the ship’s security systems before a video played across his visor. Megatron recognized the engine room, dominated by the ship’s power core. Then he saw a white figure step into frame.

The Autobot. Wheeljack.

There was a prime grenade in his servo. Optics filled with malice and wearing a maniacal grin, the Wrecker tossed it into the power core. It detonated on impact, consuming the power core in a ball of flame and smoke.

Megatron pulled his lips back in a furious snarl. So _that_ how it was. Mirage had not come to assassinate him, but to _distract_ him. Granting Wheeljack enough time to sabotage the ship. Now it made sense. _Of course_ Prime would send the trigger-happy mech to destroy his ship. Wheeljack was known for blowing up several Decepticon operations. Quite literally.

Optimus must have been growing truly desperate, to resort to such drastic measures. He was even willing to endanger—

For the second time that day, Megatron’s spark froze. It was then he became aware of the ache in his chassis, particularly the steady throb from his shoulder joint, wasn’t his own.

 _Jack_.

The tyrant merely wanted to teach the little brat a lesson, not to have him harmed! Poor thing must have been _terrified_ , trapped in the dark and left alone while the world around him turned upside down and having no idea what was happening.

 _“Show me the boy,”_ Megatron demanded hastily, and Soundwave did not hesitate.

His visor flickered, changing to an image of the warlord’s personal quarters. There was Jack, half-curled on the massive berth. But he wasn’t alone.

Megatron let out a ferocious growl at the sight of _Arcee_ , hovering over his pet. He watched, helpless, as she whispered lies into his ear. Jack fell under her spell all too easily, letting himself be carried away as she slipped into a crevice, like some thieving rat.

That wretched femme!

Only coming for Jack whenever it was _convenient_ for her. Or perhaps Optimus saw the boy as something else to take away from Megatron. The Prime wanted nothing more than to see his rival miserable. Megatron wouldn’t allow it!

He needed to find Jack and _quickly_. Arcee could have used a groundbridge to escape, but Megatron was doubtful. She stole the boy merely moments before the _Nemesis_ lost power, meaning that they would have to summon one while the ship was plummeting to the Earth. Which was impossible, without precise coordinates. The Autobots didn’t have the technology sophisticated enough for that. Which meant the trespassers had to still be on the ship.

Megatron’s fist slammed on the console, activating the _Nemesis_ ’s intercom system.

**_“All crew, Autobots have infiltrated the ship! Seize the interlopers, and bring me the human unharmed!”_ **

_“He’s gone **again**?!” _Breakdown gaped. _“Primus, someone’s got to put a beeper on this kid!”_

It was an idea Megatron would consider. Planting a tracker on the boy, so that Jack would _never_ leave his sight.

He would not let Optimus Prime take the one he valued most.

Not a second time.

* * *

Jack flinched as Megatrom’s booming voice reverberates the dark walls of the _Nemesis_.

“I think their onto us,” he commented.

“Whatever gives you that impression?” Arcee deadpanned.

The motorcycle sped up with a sharp rev of her engine. Luckily they hadn’t met much resistance during their journey through the ship’s winding hallways. They encountered one patrol, but Arcee weaved through the drones’ pedes before they had a chance to attack. She turned the corner, startled and baffled yelps echoing after them. Jack assumed majority of the crew was still shaken from the crash. That, and they were too preoccupied with repairs. He and Arcee had to take several detours to avoid corridors thick with black smoke. It was a miracle that the energon fuel lines hadn’t combusted yet.

At long last, they came to a familiar set of doors, leading to the flight deck. Jack’s heart leapt. It was a sight he would commonly see, whenever Megatron took him flying in hopes to cure the boy’s depression. The memory knotted his stomach.

_"Do you think he values you?”_

Did he?

Even after the Autobots left their charges, Megatron had come to him. Visiting him late at night, for nearly two whole months. They would talk about nothing and everything, but Jack didn’t mind, as long as he wasn’t alone. Then Megatron had saved him from the clutches of MECH. He had cared for him. He did everything he could to make Jack happy.

Yet even now, the long gashes across his cheek still burned. Without a moment’s hesitation, Megatron had _hurt_ him. Jack still wasn’t sure if the warlord was going to kill him, but he had seen that murderous intent in those optics.

That didn’t mean he felt any safer with the Autobots. Megatron would come after him, he was sure. He always did. And every time, someone else got hurt. The ‘Bots insisted that they could fend for themselves _and_ protect him, yet how many times had he been kidnapped?

The teenager was ripped from his thoughts as Arcee suddenly _slammed_ on her brakes. The momentum was enough to send him flying forward with a gag, but he managed to keep his hold on the handles. When he unceremoniously fell back to his seat, he looked back up. Only to blanch.

For a split moment, Jack thought it was Soundwave, due to how the dark armor almost blended perfectly into the shadows of the ship. Then he thought it was Megatron, due to the monstrous size of the figure. Then he realized it was neither. It was something worse.

Shockwave.

The scientist seemed somewhat surprised to see the pair of fugitives, his lone optic brightening and his antennas tilting back. However, he recovered from his shock quicker than they did. Like he hypothesized their intent, he shifted his weight so that his bulk expertly blocked off the exit.

“You Autobots are so predictable. There are dozens of alternative hatches throughout the ship, but the simple mind of a grounder can only identify the main hanger as means of escape.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Shockwave,” Arcee snarled.

Recognizing the familiar turning of gears, Jack swiftly slid off the saddle, just as his guardian transformed to her full height. She fluffed out her armor and raised her wings high, trying to make herself look twice her size, and yet Shockwave still towered over her.

She refused to be intimidated, continuing to point out, “After all, aren’t _you_ a grounder?”

“I am no ordinary case.”

“No, you just ripped your own spark out, all to sate your lust for knowledge!”

“Your statement is incorrect. I erased all unnecessary emotions from my hard drives, so I may carry more data for my research.”

“You made yourself a monster.”

Jack only stared at the interaction. The Autobots always insisted they were more than just machines, that their minds were more complex than a simple computer. Yet they never mentioned they could just _delete_ their emotions, their personality!

“I made a small sacrifice in the name of science,” Shockwave corrected again. “One, I would not hesitate to do so again. But I have not come to banter, Autobot.”

At that, the mech lowered himself to one knee. He looked past Arcee so that his optic focused on _Jack._ A clawed servo reached out.

“Come, Jackson,” Shockwave ordered. “I have yet to finish my experiments.”

A shiver crawled down the boy’s spine at the cold tone. He stepped back, just as Arcee moved in between him and the hulking Decepticon.

“You’ll have to take him over my sparkless _husk_ ,” she growled.

“So be it.”

As quick as a viper, Shockwave lashed out, seizing Arcee by the throat with his single servo. She choked as she was lifted into air. She wrapped her servos around her assaulter’s wrist, trying to relieve the weight on her neck as her pedes dangled above the floor. Before Jack could let out a panicked shout, Shockwave turned and flung Arcee down the hallway. She crashed into the wall with a horrible noise, sending sparks flying in every direction.

“ARCEE!”

Jack rushed forward to come to her aid, only a massive pes to _slam_ on the ground in front of him. He reeled back as a dark shadow fell over him, looking up to see Shockwave’s unblinking optics. The Decepticon leaned down again, his clawed servo extended to swallow the little human whole.

With a startled squeak, Jack spun on his heel and scurried away, like a mouse from a cat. He only made it five feet before he tripped over his own feet, falling face-first on the cold floor. The jarring impact summoned excruciating pain from his ruined shoulder, causing him to let out a strangled shout as he clutched at the limb.

Shockwave paused. Then his optic brightened.

“Foolish Autobot. You damaged him!” the scientist accused.

“That would be your Lord and Master,” Arcee spat back through gritted denta.

“Your statement is illogical. Now because of your incompetence I have to delay my experiments to repair him.”

Jack flinched when he suddenly felt the sharp tips of talons graze along his back. Just when he convinced himself the mad genius had a hold on him, a shriek filled the air.

“How about you cancel them instead?!”

Suddenly Arcee appeared behind Shockwave’s shoulder, hovering in mid-air as she activated her arm-blades. She brought them down, burying them into the base of the extensions on the mech’s back. Even though they weren’t true wings like a Seeker’s, they must have been sensitive, as he let out an agonized bellow.

Shockwave reached up with his servo in an attempt to pry the little Autobot off, but his frame was too large and bulky, completely inflexible. It allowed Arcee time to bore her blades into his protoform before ripping them free. With acrobatic grace, she kicked off her victim to flip through the air, landing perfectly between Shockwave and Jack.

The Decepticon _growled_ , but the army brat wasn’t sure it was from pain or growing frustration. Shockwave raised his cannon-arm as if to fire, but he must have noticed Jack was within the blast range and thought better of it, instead using it as a giant club. He swung it at Arcee, whom just managed to dodge what would have no doubt have been a brutal blow.

She countered with a roundhouse kick that usually sent drones flying, but the attack merely bounced off of Shockwave’s thick armor. Unfazed, he backhanded the Autobot, sending her back into the wall. Arcee let out a grunt, which was swallowed up by the sickening _crunch_ of her winglets. Jack watched helplessly as she slid to the floor, Shockwave looming over her. Realizing the frail human was in the clear, the mech raised his cannon once again, aiming at Arcee’s helm.

“Your mission was most illogical,” he droned, the barrel of his weapon illuminated by concentrated energon.

The femme only replied by baring her denta, even as the cannon’s violet light illuminated her faceplates. The charge of the cannon grew louder and louder until it reached its apex. Arcee chose that moment to kick Shockwave’s arm aside, just as he fired. It sent the blast into the wall, filling the entire hallway in an explosion of smoke and fire. Jack raised his arms to shield himself from the wave of heat that assaulted him. He squinted through the haze to see Arcee darting between Shockwave’s legs, not without slicing her blade against a gap in his armor.

The Decepticon grunted, even swaying as his stabilizers were compromised. But he managed to correct himself, spinning around as he raised his cannon once again. Jack froze like a deer in headlights, heart retreating back into his esophagus as he looked down the barrel of the gigantic gun. Then he was ripped away from the terrifying view when Arcee’s servos wrapped around his torso and plucked him from his spot.

She cleared over thirty feet in a single bound, a safe enough distance from their assaulter for her to place Jack back onto the ground. Only when he straightened, he realized they were right back where they started—Shockwave between them and the exit. Except this time he appeared far more menacing, his silhouette outlined against the smoke as his hellish optic burned through the haze, like some demonic Cyclops emerging from the Underworld.

The monster leveled his weapon once again. Jack braced, ready to flee from the deadly attack. Yet Arcee did not move. She stood her ground, glaring at Shockwave, as if in challenge. She did not even flinch as the cannon became to sing again.

“A-Arcee,” Jack pried, nervously stepping away from the fearsome sight.

His guardian did not heed him. She remained as motionless as a statue, even as the hum grew in volume, just like before. Except this time, she was too far away to interfere with the shot. Allowing Shockwave to fire straight at Arcee’s spark.

Time seem to slow as the bolt of energon flew towards the air.

Jack watched, helpless, mouth opening in a scream as the attack neared Arcee’s chest. Just when the purple fire illuminated her cobalt armor, she _leaned_ out of the way, raising her shifting servo in the same motion. Somehow she managed to charge a shot before her blaster even finished transforming, unleashing a bolt before Jack or even Shockwave registered the motion.

The blue energon sailed through the air, striking the scientist’s sole optic.

Shockwave _howled._

His servo flew up to gaping hole, cradling the bleeding wound. But he was far from defeated. With monstrous snarls, he swung his cannon back and forth, trying to find his opponent.

Arcee was hardly fazed by his furious fit, lowering her weapon with a steady glower. She wordlessly transformed into a motorcycle. Jack stared for a moment more until an impatient rev broke his trance and he hastily climbed into the saddle. He hadn’t even completely settled in before she took off.

She made sure to keep a wide berth from Shockwave, slipping by him as he continued to assault empty air. His bellows echoed through the corridor. He had to make himself focus on the exit. With no other interruptions, they were outside in a matter of moments.

Jack took in a deep breath of fresh, salty air. When he did not feel the warm sun kiss his face, he looked to the sky to see a gray blanket of clouds. It made the atmosphere cooler, but not as bitter as the interior of the _Nemesis_. As Arcee raced down one of the ship’s spines (were they bigger than usual?), Jack scanned his immediate surroundings. He saw rolling hills as far as he could see, covered in lush, green grass. He wondered where they were, but quickly concluded that they were no longer in the United States. It would make sense that Megatron would avoid the country, after he had ruthlessly murdered an entire legion of American troops.

He was brought out of his musings by a friendly honk sounding behind him. Jack glanced over his shoulder to see a white Lamborghini with red and green markings. He recognized it as Wheeljack’s alt mode. Apparently Arcee did, too.

The motorcycle skidded to a stop for the second time that day. Understanding his cue, Jack slipped off, allowing her to shift back into bipedal mode. She whirled around to face Wheeljack, optics blazing. The teenager took a tentative step back. He knew that look.

Wheeljack seemed oblivious as he slowed down before transforming into his root mode, laughing casually as he sauntered over.

“Quite a rush, eh, Arcee?” he cackled.

“Not how I would describe it,” the femme growled. “ _What_ were you thinking?!”

“I was just completing mission.”

At Wheeljack’s nonchalant drawl, Arcee’s voice grew to a yell, “The _mission_ was to sabotage the ship! Not _destroy_ it! Your stunt nearly got us all _killed_!”

“Hey, we survived, didn’t we? I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is your complete lack of protocol and regard of others!”

“Ugh, your starting to sound like Ultra Magnus.”

The Wrecker’s flippant attitude reminded Jack when he would groan to his mom after being told to take out the trash. Arcee, meanwhile, was the exaggerated parent. If he wasn’t still shaking, he would have found the argument funny. He was pulled from his musings by movement behind them, from the _Nemesis_. He tried to get the Cybertronians’ attention.

“Um, guys…”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Arcee shot back, not hearing her charge. “Considering he actually has enough sense not to down an entire warship!”

“I get the mission done,” Wheeljack retorted, an edge creeping into his voice. “No matter what.”

“Right. And you leave it to others to clean up your mess!”

“Hey, guys, we have a problem!” Jack tried again, and once again he was ignored.

“We’re a _team_ , Wheeljack!” Arcee continued to rant. “We have to think about each other!”

“All a team has ever done is hold me back,” the mech complained. “Alone is how I prefer to roll. I don’t play well with others.”

“Then why did you bother coming back?!”

“Asking myself the same question.”

“GUYS!” Jack shouted.

“WHAT?!” the quarreling duo snapped as one.

Rather than explaining, the human pointed at the squadron of Vehicons racing towards their positions in vehicle mode. Judging by the speed they were going, they were probably angry. Arcee made a noise in distaste. Wheeljack looked almost relieved that he was saved from his scolding before his electric-blue eyes brightened in glee.

Without hesitation, he unsheathed his twin swords from his back as he said, “So, you want to keep talking, or you want to dance?”

“This discussion is _not_ over,” Arcee retorted, reluctantly turning towards their enemies. As she raised her arm-blades, she ordered, “Jack, go hide. Stay until—”

“It’s safe, I know,” the teenager finished in a groan.

He was used to the drill, by now. Every time a fight broke out, he was shoved to the side. He hated it. He hated he could only _watch_ , as his friends got hurt. But he was a human—tiny and fragile. A Cybertronian could crush him as easily as an insect. There was no way he could step into the battle without being _stepped on_.

Jack noticed a single boulder a few paces away, just large enough to shield his body. He sprinted over to it, slipping behind it just as the Vehicons transformed. He dared to peek out from his hiding place, watching as Wheeljack and Arcee settled into battle stances as the Decepticons made a semi-circle around them. Hums filled the air as the drones trained their blasters on the rogue pair.

Wheeljack hardly seemed concerned, commenting, “You what I love about Vehicons?”

“They’re easily distracted,” Arcee answered, a smug smirk curling across her faceplates.

She placed her pes in the Wrecker’s offered servo and braced herself. Then like she weighed no more than a feather, Wheeljack flung her high into the air. Like Acree predicted, nearly every Decepticon glanced up at the flying Autobot, only to be blinded by the brilliant sun behind her. Allowing Wheeljack to transform his servos into cannons and open fire.

He struck two drones in the helm, sending them crumbling to the ground. The violent _crash_ jolted the other Vehicons into action, immediately returning fire with a volley of red energon. Wheeljack rolled out of their line of sight, all the while peppering them with shots of his own.

Meanwhile, gravity regained its hold on Acree, pulling her back down to the Earth. So focused on their new target, they did not see her until it was too late. She collided into one of drones, sending it to the ground with her momentum and crushing its helm with her pes. She then expertly rolled off of her victim, only to pounce on the nearest Vehicon. She sent a fury of attacks with her arm-blades, practically cutting the poor drone to pieces. 

After that, Jack had a hard time following the two Autobots. Arcee flipped from one Decepticon to the next with dizzying acrobatics, slicing them apart. Wheeljack bulldozed his way through his enemies, pummeling them to a pulp. Yet despite their opposing fighting styles, the pair moved in perfect sync. It was like they were perfectly aware of the others’ positioning, careful to never get too close or get in the way. Sometimes they would toss an unlikely victim to each other, like children playing catch with a football. Jack was beginning to understand how they survived eons of war.

But it did not mean they were untouchable.

If he had been paying closer attention, the army brat would have noticed one Vehicon sneaking up behind Arcee, blaster primed and ready. By the time he let out a shout of warning, it was too late. His partner let out a shriek of pain as a superheated bolt of energon struck her back. It was enough to send her skidding across the ground, a stream of smoke rising from her scorched plating.

“Oh, _no_!” Jack cried helplessly as Acree moaned into the grass, unmoving.

He wanted to run to her aid, but the distance between them was too great. Wheeljack was on the other side of the battlefield, still wrestling with a pair of drones. Noticing his fallen comrade, the mech tried to break free, but the enemy form a near-solid wall in his way. Jack could only watch as the Vehicon sauntered over to Arcee, already charging the next shot. Picking herself off the ground with a groan, the Autobot was oblivious as it took aim at the back of her helm.

It was at that moment that Jack realized his worst fear was happening before his eyes. There was no trick up her sleeve this time. His partner was going to die. He opened his mouth to let out a scream, but he never had the chance.

Without warning, high-pitched whistle filled the air, so loud and so sharp that nearly everyone present flinched. Jack glanced up just in time to see a flaming projectile streaking through the sky. Colliding against the Decepticon’s chest.

The resulting explosion sent the drone away from Arcee, tearing its chassis into pieces. The debris rained down onto the ground in a shower of metal and sparks. The air was filled with several seconds of silence as fighting ceased, all eyes and optics stared at the pile of shrapnel that was once a sentient being. Acree looked over her shoulder with wide, bright optics, looking completely baffled and disbelieving. 

Then a rumble of afterburners thundered from the heavens. Jack craned his neck to look up at the clouds, squinting against the grey light shining through. He didn’t see anything at first, until he realized he was looking where the source of the noise was, not _ahead_ of it. He angled his gaze and saw a dark shape against the sky.

At first he was confused at the sight of the flyer, knowing full well that Megatron wouldn’t order the termination of one of his troops. It couldn’t be from the military—it was all alone. There was no sign of a squadron or at least a wingman. Then who was—

The jet tilted, and then Jack recognized the bright, white plating.

“Hahaha! Skyfire!” Wheeljack laughed. “About time!”

At his shout, Skyfire began his descent. Instead of a controlled, steady spiral, he fell into a dizzying corkscrew dive. Just when Jack thought he was about to slam into the Earth, he made another spin to right himself. He cleared half a mile in seconds, transforming into his bipedal mode just as he collided into another Vehicon.

The poor Decepticon was crushed underneath his weight alone, crumbling with a sickening noise. Skyfire seemed unbothered as he expertly rolled off of his victim. His servos transformed before he even rose to his pedes—one taking shape of a sword, the other a cannon. With a single swipe of his blade, he sliced off the helm of a drone. At the exact same time, he fired his cannon straight into the spark of the another.

In mere seconds, he had cut down half of the remaining Decepticons.

Jack gawked. He had never seen an Autobot fight with such skill and precision—not even Arcee! He thought Skyfire was a mere scientist! Why did Optimus Prime never send him on the battlefield if he was this good?

“Let’s finish off these fools, shall we?” Skyfire offered.

“Took the words right out of my intake,” Wheeljack grinned.

Without further preamble, the Wrecker sent a sucker punch into the nearest Vehicon. The Decepticon crumpled in a heap, an ugly dent in his helm. By now, Arcee had regained herself. She raised her haunches like cat before launching herself at an unsuspecting Vehicon trooper. After deactivating it with a swift swipe of her blade, she transformed her arms into twin blasters.

As she opened fired on a new opponent, she demanded of Skyfire, “What are you _doing_ here?”

“What? You think I actually came alone?”

At his dismissive reply, the flyer jerked a thumb behind him. Jack followed his direction, only to blink at the sight before him. Up on the far hill, outlined against the horizon was a massive vehicle. It only took the teenager two seconds to recognize the color scheme. Optimus Prime.

More vehicles appeared, each one as familiar as the first. There was Bumblebee! And Bulkhead! But it was not just Team Prime. Ironhide was with them, along with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker and Smokescreen! There were two more colorful vehicles that Jack did not recognize—another semi-truck and some sort of Jeep.

Did… did _all_ of the Autobots come?

Not exactly, he realized, as he failed to find a white and crimson ambulance. It made sense that Ratchet stayed behind. As the Autobots’ sole medic, he was too invaluable to send to the frontlines. Furthermore, the war veteran had made a comment more than once that he was too old to properly fight.

So Jack was surprised when he saw more and more and more vehicles appear on the crest of the hill, until the boy lost count in the sheer number of them all. He managed to identify them as military-grade Humvee, each filled with the brim with soldiers. There had to be at least a dozen of them!

Jack remembered what Arcee had told him: that they were launching an assault on the _Nemesis._ He honestly thought that entailed crashing it in hopes the Decepticons would perish, not sending in an entire army!

There was a faint whine as Skyfire neutralized the final drone, followed by Wheeljack’s drawl, “About time the cavalry arrived.”

Soon the growl of engines could be heard, becoming louder and louder until it became a roar. The noise became nearly deafening as the mass of vehicles came closer. One of the Humvee’s passenger door swung open before it came to a proper halt.

“Jack!” Lennox exclaimed as he practically leaped out of the vehicle. He trotted over to the army brat, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

He faltered when he noticed the red marks across Jack’s cheek. There was pity in his eyes. It made the teen bristle.

“I’m fine,” he replied curtly. 

He shrugged off Lennox’s hand and turned away so his wound was no longer in view. Last thing he needed was to be seen as some helpless child. He already had a panic attack in front of Arcee. He didn’t want to have another in front of an army of strangers. Lennox must have noticed his mistake, opening his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by a sharp whistle.

“Sweet Lady Liberty!” Fowler gasped. “It’s even bigger than I thought!”

The liaison stared up at the colossal warship looming over them, eyes as wide as saucers and mouth agape. Lennox turned, blinking at the sight. It took a moment for Jack to remember neither of them had seen the _Nemesis_ in person. Built to house an army of Cybertronians, the gargantuan warship would be a sight to behold to a tiny human.

Lennox he quickly composed himself, declaring, “It might be, but it still doesn’t change our mission.” Then he added as he turned to his friend, “You really shouldn’t be here, Bill.”

“If this is the final showdown between Decepticons and Autobots, then it’s my job as a representative of Earth to bear witness.”

 _Final_ showdown? Did that mean…

Jack’s train of thought was broken by an orchestra of shifting gears as the Autobots transformed one by one. It was revealed that the cobalt semi-truck was Ultra Magnus and Jack was surprised to see that the strange Jeep was Preceptor. What was the scientist doing here?

He expected Perceptor to be with Ratchet back at base, out of harm’s way. Especially considering that research team was banned from combat, so strictly that their location was kept secret from other Autobots. It was unlike Optimus to break his own rule.

Then Jack noticed a disc-like object in Perceptor’s servo. An object that made his heart freeze.

The spark extractor.

He remembered the battle in the catacombs of Paris, fighting to claim the device. He remembered Ravage and Ratbat’s _fear_ when the teenager merely waved it at them. Though crafted by Zeta Prime, the Decepticons knew what the wicked weapon was capable of. It could rip out their sparks with a single pulse of raw energy.

If it was _here_ , alongside the entire military might of NEST, then…

The grave look in Optimus’s optics confirmed his suspicion.

Jack turned to him, murmuring, “You’re going to use the spark extractor on the ‘Cons, aren’t you?”

It was more of an observation than a question. The Autobot leader closed in optics for just a moment, but it was hard to read his emotion. Resolution? Remorse? Indifference? Jack didn’t know, but he felt a chill crawl up his spine when that icy-blue gaze settled on him.

“Yes,” the Prime rumbled. “While I am deeply reluctant to deploy a weapon of this caliber, this may be our only chance to end the war… once and for all.”


	9. Battle of the Cliffs (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter was hard to write. I hope updates will come easier because starting after this, I have some of the chapters already written. However, I finally got a job that takes up most of my schedule, so we’ll see how it goes. Big thanks to Rian Moeru for helping me with this chapter! Hope you all enjoy!

_“You allowed yourself to be bested by a **two-wheeler**?” _Megatron roared. In his growing rage, his claws dug in the console, leaving grooves.

 _“Forgive me, my liege,”_ Shockwave apologized, even though his optic-less helm continued to stare at the ceiling from his place on the medical berth. _“I failed to accurately calculate the outcome—”_

_“I expected more from you, Shockwave. Knock Out, can he be repaired?”_

He shifted he gaze on the transmission screen to see the medic collecting tools that were scattered about the ruined medbay. It was like Wheeljack had set off a grenade there. Instruments, chemicals, and energon were spilled all over the floor.

 _“Well…”_ Knock Out drawled, looking up from the mess. _“I can certainly **try** , my lord. It seems most of the optic is intact, miraculously. There’s synthetic lenses, like the ones I used in your surgery—”_

 _“I just recovered my chief engineer, and I will not lose him again. He is useless to me without his sight. Get it done, by any means necessary. I do not care if you have to take Breakdown’s other optic!”_ Megatron added, ignoring the fearful whimper beside him.

He abruptly cut off the transmission. He gritted his fangs as he processed the information given to him. Arcee had escaped with Jack. At least Shockwave was competent enough to send a squadron of troops after them. Megatron turned to Soundwave, who was waiting patiently in his master’s shadow.

 _“Well?”_ he demanded impatiently, and Soundwave’s visor flickered to life.

The image was not what Megatron wanted to see. From a camera mounted on the _Nemesis_ ’s port side, he saw husks of drones scattered across the ground. Arcee and Wheeljack were still engaged with the remaining Decepticons, but they weren’t alone.

There was a Seeker with them. The mech appeared to be High Vosian, based on his high-heeled thrusters, broad wings, and lean frame. For a paranoid moment, he thought it was another Starscream clone, until he recognized the white plating. Megatron bristled.

_Skyfire._

That miserable _traitor_!

He should have terminated him when he had the chance!

Suddenly the image zoomed out until the gaggle of pests were nothing more than specs. The camera then panned to a new sight. Megatron’s mood soured even more.

It was the Autobots, and this time it was more than just Optimus’s personal lackeys. It seemed they had brought their entire force, alongside an army of human soldiers. They were quick to exploit Megatron’s perceived weakness. Or perhaps this was their scheme all along.

He gritted in fangs in a snarl. He would not allow his enemies to achieve victory. He marched over to the nearest console, slamming his fist on it with more force than necessary, having his bellow resound across the ship, “ ** _All hands, battle stations! Crush the Autobots!”_**

When Megatron turned back around, Soundwave greeted him with another picture. This one was of Jack, curled in a pitiful, traumatized ball in the spymaster’s servos. Soundwave’s warning was clear.

 _“He has been through worse,”_ Megatron dismissed. Then the dictator was surprised to hear his own voice echoing back at him.

_/“The pain of losing a loved one. That is what you fear.”/_

It was the words he had spoken to Jack, when he explored the human’s memories. Just like it was designed, the cordial psychic patch had revealed Jack’s greatest fear to him.

_“He is **mine**. Anyone that attempts to steal him from me will be destroyed.”_

The image changed to Jack huddled on Megatron’s berth, practically sobbing in panic. Without his permission, his spark throbbed. But with what? Anger, for Soundwave’s borderline insubordination? Or guilt, knowing _he_ put Jack in that state?

Megatron blinked at his own train of thought. _Guilt?_ What did he have to feel guilty of? The little brat got what he deserved! He was a ruler! He couldn’t afford to have such petty emotions! Curse Jack for invoking it. Curse Soundwave for challenging him!

 _“You think I shouldn’t have punished him,”_ Megatron accused.

Without a moment’s hesitance, Soundwave nodded.

Had it been other Decepticon standing before him, Megatron would have executed them on the spot for such blatant disrespect. But he had to remind himself that this was _Soundwave_.

It was one of the main reasons why he kept Soundwave so close for so long. It was what set the mech apart from the rest of the Decepticons. He was _honest_. He fought for the cause with every fiber of his being. He was calm and rational. He reminded his leader of reason. It had always been that way, ever since Megatron freed him from Zeta Prime’s cruel clutches.

The Decepticon let out a heavy sigh. Once again, Soundwave reminded him of the truth. If Jack witnessed the murder of his allies, at Decepticon hands, he would turn away from Megatron forever. However, as long as the Autobots continued to live, they would continue to use the boy against him.

So the tyrant came up with a compromise.

 _“Bring him to me,”_ he ordered. With a silent nod, Soundwave moved away. Allowing Megatron to shift his focus back to Breakdown. _“You will lead the frontal assault against the Autobots. Ensure they do not breach the ship.”_

The mech blinked. _“Me, sir? But—”_

_“ **Go**!”_

Breakdown did not need to be told twice. Completely abandoning what he was doing, he rushed out of the bridge, almost colliding into Dreadwing. It was only because of the Seeker’s reflexes that he managed to step out of the way and saved himself from being bulldozed. Breakdown disappeared out of sight before Dreadwing had the chance to shout, leaving the Air Commander staring dumbly at the air he just occupied.

 _“Dreadwing,”_ Megatron called, summoning his attention. _“Rally your Seeker armada. You are to provide air support.”_

His second-in-command blinked, but he did not question his lord’s order.

 _“As you wish,”_ Dreadwing nodded. As quickly as he stepped into the bridge, he wheeled around and went the way he came.

Leaving Megatron alone.

The deafening silence was a sharp contrast to the pandemonium swirling around him. There was a strange sense of peace, as if the storm of war was not about to rain down upon him. For just a moment, Megatron could _think_.

He started by considering their chances of victory. The Decepticons outnumbered the Autobots. The humans hardly made a difference. It was true, the primitive organisms managed to construct weapons capable of piercing a Cybertronian’s plating, but they were so small and frail, they could easily be crushed under pes. And they were outmatched. The Decepticons had numerous resources. Resources provided by the _Nemesis_.

Without power, it was practically useless. With no energon and with no proper defense, the Decepticon cause was crippled. Megatron couldn’t rely on the drones for repairs. Even if they managed to restore the _Nemesis,_ for just how long could they hold back their enemies? If they did not act quickly, they could be completely overwhelmed. While Prime’s numbers were few, the humans’ were nearly limitless. They would just keep multiplying like the insects they were until they consumed their prey like a horde of Scraplets.

Megatron turned back to the console, accessing the security system. He activated one of the cameras posted on the exterior hull, showing him a view of their surroundings. Breakdown should be confronting the Autobots by now.

Sure enough, NEST forces were in the same position as the warlord last saw them. Except now, many of the humans had clambered out of their vehicles, their pitiful little weapons raised. Megatron then shifted his focus to Optimus’s army of degenerates.

The Decepticon leader bristled at the sight of Ultra Magnus. The head of the Elite Guard was nothing more than a lapdog, serving from one Prime to the next. When he failed with Zeta, it appeared he now groveled at Optimus’s pedes. There were a handful of other foot soldiers—none of them Megatron cared to name. Then he noticed a rather stocky mech with crimson plating, interrupted by black and silver touches.

What was Perceptor doing on the frontline? He was more of a scientist than a battle-hardened soldier. Did Prime have no shame, sending out a mech like—

Megatron’s processor froze mid-thought when he saw a flash of silver. Coming from a disc, held in Perceptor’s servo.

The _spark extractor._

The warlord’s dark, twisted spark began to hammer in his chest. The emotion that had consumed him all during the _Nemesis_ ’s plummet, that he had finally stamped down, returned with a vengeance. It just as foreign as _fear_ , but it was much hotter and wild.

 _Panic_.

It took only an instant for Megatron to realize Optimus’s intentions.

Although many things, Prime was no fool. He knew he could not face the Decepticon army, even with the humans’ support, without incalculable losses. It was why he had brought Perceptor, who was the most qualified to handle and activate the spark extractor. If he were to deploy the device at the heart of Megatron’s forces… at the heart of the _Nemesis_ …

_No._

Megatron _would not_ allow that to happen.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of angry engines followed by wrathful battle-cries. Breakdown and his forces had arrived.

As one, he and the frontline of troopers transformed, releasing a volley of energon at the invaders. The Autobots were quick to respond, as if they _anticipated_ the attack. Optimus’s soldiers formed a line of their own, returning fire. The humans were quick to join them and barrages of bullets joined the fray. Working together, they formed a protective circle around Perceptor. Around the spark extractor.

Megatron bared his fangs as a solution formed in his mind—one he did not question for a moment. He could only hope that Breakdown could afford him enough time.

Making haste, the dictator contacted the commlink to the medbay. After several, terribly long moments, Knock Out answered. He was leaning over Shockwave, surgically placing a synthetic film over the mech’s optic.

Megatron didn’t bother with pleasantries or courtesy, barking sharply, _“Knock Out, when you are done with surgery, you and Shockwave are to meet me at the power core.”_

The medic stuttered, the forceps in his servos almost piercing Shockwave’s inner circuitry. _“I am good, my liege, but I am no engineer—”_

_“You are to oversee an energon transfusion.”_

_“Energon? Whose?”_

It was then Megatron’s scowl turned into a sneer. _“Mine.”_

* * *

The next few minutes of Jack’s life went by in a blur. One moment, he was still digesting what he had just been told. The Autobots were going to use the spark extractor. _Optimus_ was going to use the spark extractor. Optimus, who fought for _all_ sentient life. Optimus, who believed that sentient life had a right to _choose._ Would the Decepticons be able to protest, as their sparks—their _souls_ —were ripped out of them?

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but never had the chance. Suddenly the roar of engines filled the air, followed by panicked shouts. The army brat was shoved away, _hard_. He ended up losing his balance and falling to the ground, the taste of dirt in his mouth.

Over his own hacking, he could hear Optimus shout, “Defend the spark extractor!”

Instantly there was the clanking of pedes and the hums of charged blasters. Jack only saw a glimpse of the Autobots’ protective, makeshift circle around Perceptor before a beefy hand seized his upper arm and he was hauled to his feet.

“Jack, you need to get out of here,” Lennox insisted, pushing him towards the closest Humvee.

“But—“ the teenager tried to protest, but he didn’t know what to protest. Leaving his friends? Leaving Megatron? Leaving people to die?

Whatever it was, it died on his lips as he was crammed into the vehicle. Just like he when was manhandled by Galloway’s goons. Did Lennox know what had happened to him? Or was Jack just a pawn, being moved from position to the next?

The violent sounds of blaster and gunfire jolted him from his thoughts. He heard cries of pain, both human and Cybertronian.

Lennox had to raise his voice over the commotion, even though the driver was only a couple feet away from him, “Get him back to the base. Request Ratchet for a groundbridge.”

The driver nodded curtly. He pulled the vehicle into reverse, so swiftly that Jack’s face was almost imprinted on the canvas seat before him. The sudden jerk changed his perspective of the outside world so he was able to look over Smokescreen’s pauldron to see Arcee.

She was transfixed on the charging army before her, firing her twin blasters with expert precision. For some reason, she glanced over her shoulder. And in that moment, their gazes locked. Then Arcee’s lips curled in a coy, warm smile. It was the same one she gave him that night, when he was alone and crippled in the hospital, so she snuck him out and they talked for hours by the ocean. Back when Jack foolishly thought everything was going to be okay.

But now he was wiser than to believe that.

Sure enough, Arcee’s face disappeared, replaced by a blur of military vehicles, which then faded into rolling hills. Jack had to twist around in his seat to peer through the back window, towards the battlefield. He could only watch as the towering titans became smaller and smaller. The army of humans morphed into a sea of military green. The echoes of battle faded, leaving Jack in lonely silence, save for the growl of the Humvee’s engines.

His nails dug into the canvas seats below him and his teeth ground against each other. He felt so _useless_. Once again, he was shoved to the side. Once again, he was nothing more than a plaything that did not want to be used.

He hated it.

**_HATE…_ **

“Hey, kiddo.”

The voice brought Jack out of his self-loathing. He blinked the purple haze away, focusing on the soldier that sat in the passenger seat. Wearing body armor and a helmet with a chin-strap, the teen could only see the man’s face, rugged with scars and untrimmed whiskers.

“We’re a couple minutes out from the extraction point,” he went on. “Then you’ll be back with the Doc ‘Bot at the base.”

Extraction point? Jack remembered that Lennox mentioned a groundbridge. It made sense it would be located away from the battlefield, to prevent the Decepticons from following. But Jack was sure Megatron was not far behind them.

He feared that if he looked out the window, he would see the sterling titan barreling towards them. But Megatron never came. Just like his escort had promised, the Humvee rolled to a stop in a matter of minutes. Jack couldn’t see the frontline from here, but the upper hull of the _Nemesis_ was still in view, peeking over the horizon like a vengeful giant. He decided he didn’t like it. Nor did he appreciate the eerie silence.

Thankfully it was broken as the driver instructed his passenger, “Call in the ‘bridge.”

With a quick affirmative, the soldier picked up a phone-like device attached to the dash and brought it up to his ear. In a moment’s notice, a burst of light appeared, taking shape in a swirling vortex. All three blinked at the groundbridge before them. Jack didn’t even hear the soldier speak. The driver apparently didn’t, either.

“How the hell was that so fast?” he demanded.

The passenger’s face was pale. “That wasn’t me…”

The man’s eyes widened at the same time as Jack’s. “Oh, shi—“

He didn’t even finish the curse before a massive, spiked blob materialized from the portal. There was an ear-splitting shriek as it landed on the hood of the vehicle with such force that the windshield shattered. Through the web of cracks, Jack saw a familiar set of fangs. Megatron had came for him much sooner than he thought. 

Ravage pawed at the broken fiberglass, like a cat trying to hunt a bird through the window. The driver squawked as dagger-like claws pierced through. The passenger was quick to act.

He wedged the muzzle of his weapon through a widening crack until it pressed against Ravage’s plating. Then he fired.

Energon flew. The panther-like beast _screamed_. With another blur of movement, he bounded off his prey in retreat. Allowing another dark figure to take his place. 

Before Jack had the chance to shout in warning, one of Soundwave’s tendrils shot out with the speed of a cobra, _slamming_ into the side of the side of the Hummer.

Then time stilled.

Jack could see the metal of the door caving in. He could see the world spinning around them at an agonizingly slow pace. He could see each individual shard of glass, suspended in air. He heard screams—muffled, yet deafening—in his ear. It took several moments to realize his own was among them.

Then, all too soon, time returned. And it was not forgiving. Everything became a violent, jarring, whirling blur. Jack struck his shoulder multiple times and his teeth clacked together so hard he was sure they cracked. Suddenly there was a great lurch, and then everything just _stopped._

The terrifying experience ended as quickly as it started. Leaving Jack swimming in disorientation. His ears were ringing. The taste of iron and earth cloaked his tongue. His vision was blurred. He had to blink several times until his surroundings came into focus, but something was wrong.

The top of Jack’s head scraped against a hard, metal roof. He could feel the weight of his stomach in his throat. His seatbelt dug into his thighs with painful pressure. It took him several seconds of staring at the floor to realize he was in fact staring at the _ceiling._

The vehicle had turned upside down.

His mind clouded with fog, Jack was slow to digest what happened. Soundwave struck the vehicle, sending it tumbling downhill. The Decepticon must have been _livid_ to use such force. Or perhaps he wanted to ensure his prey had no chance to escape.

Suddenly Jack heard a wheeze, so quiet it was barely audible. It came from the driver. He must have been still alive. But the boy didn’t have a good view of him, not from his inverted angle. He couldn’t see the passenger very well, either.

So he fumbled for the seatbelt until he heard a distinct _click._ It was the only warning he received before his body folded upon his head. It was Jack’s turn to let out a ragged groan. Agony traveled down his spine, paralyzing him with pain.

He took several long breaths through his teeth, waiting until it subsided. Yet even then, it took all his willpower to shift himself over the front of the vehicle. He uncomfortably wedged himself between the seats, but he managed to reach the driver’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” Jack tried to rouse the man, shaking him with the little strength he had left. There was no response. Not so much as a flitter of the eyelids or a strained sigh. There was _nothing._

The teen had a terrible thought. He immediately denied it.

_No… no, it can’t be._

Even as he tried to reassure himself, Jack brought up his shaking fingertips to the man’s neck. It was bent in an odd way, so he had a hard time finding the jugular. He expected to feel life beating underneath tanned skin. Only to find it warm, wet, and still.

“No,” Jack breathed aloud.

But… but he just _heard_ him! He was breathing! The soldier was alive! He had to be! He continued to press along the stranger’s neck, searching for a pulse, but there was none. There was no sign of life.

Had he been too late? In the few precious seconds it took him to unravel himself? Was the gasp he heard not of discomfort, but the soul leaving its host?

Jack’s hand quickly retreated. It was shaking even worse now. He turned, towards the passenger—the other soldier. For help or for comfort, he didn’t know. Only when he rolled over, he was greeted with blank, lifeless eyes.

Jack screamed.

He had seen those eyes before. He had seen them underneath his hands. Blood coated the man’s face, bubbling around the shard of glass buried in his neck. Just like when Jack used the knife to kill Marcus. Instead of the brave, loyal soldier trying to save a civilian’s life, Jack saw the face of his tormentor.

Suddenly his metal confines constricted around him, suffocating him, trapping him—just like the _grave_. His quivering worsened. It became harder to breathe. He needed air. He needed to _escape_!

His search for freedom was difficult and painful. He had to contort his body in order to squeeze through the nearest window, his joints and muscles screaming in protest. Instead of soft blades of grass, the jagged teeth of scattered glass bit into his palms. Jack hissed as he pulled himself out of his prison and onto open ground. He managed to crawl only two feet before he collapsed, his face falling in the dirt.

Yet he continued to see the faces of the dead men. His teeth chattered. _Dead,_ because of him. Now dozens of more would follow. All because he refused to stay where he _belonged_.

Jack became aware of quiet thuds across the ground. A frigid shadow fell over him. Like a cold wind, Soundwave’s thoughts whispered to him.

He could still end this. He could stop all the bloodshed.

Jack shook his head against the ground before he lifted it a little, just so he could refute in a broken croak, “You’ll just kill everyone, anyway. Like you did to Galloway and the others.”

This battle did not have to meet the same fate. If he returned to Megatron, it would all be over.

Part of Jack—that small, naive, child-like hope—wanted to believe intrusive thoughts. Then another part of him—one dictated by firm logic—warned him that it was only a lie. 

“I don’t believe you,” he grounded out. He struggled to rise to all fours. “The Autobots… they’ll stop you.”

He still expected the Autobots to save him? They had left him in danger. They didn’t care about him. Megatron did.

“He hurt me.”

Disciplined, Soundwave corrected. No different than how a father gives his child a sharp tap.

“Megatron is _nothing_ like my father!”

Yet losing him, would be like losing a second one.

The thought felt like a shard of ice piercing into Jack’s heart. All he could feel was cold. It was like every fiber in his body had been frozen. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t _think_. 

He lost all awareness, so when blunt fingers brushed against his back, it was a rude awakening. Jack started, only to send jolts of pain cascading across his body. Yet no noise left his throat. No shout of protest, no scream of panic, no yell of denial. There was only that single thought, circling around his mind like a vulture circling over the dead. 

And the most terrifying of all, Jack did not know if it was created by Soundwave’s machinations, or if it was his own doing.

Was… was it true?

By now, the frigid spell was dissipating, but the harsh world of reality was hardly any better. His skin felt clammy. His head pounded. His chest was tight. His breaths became quick and shallow. Jack’s logic spoke up again, informing him that he was hyperventilating. 

His assaulter must have noticed, as Soundwave’s petting became firmer. And yet his touch was as icy as it was comforting.

He did not need to be afraid. Soundwave was not here to harm him.

Jack believed it. The Decepticon had come for _him_ , to bring back his lord and master’s precious pet. But that wouldn’t stop him from hurting others. Jack could still see the overturned vehicle. The driver’s window was gone—allowing him to peer inside at the lifeless bodies hanging upside down. 

Soundwave had killed the soldiers without a second thought just to get to him. Just like when the Decepticon’s symbiotes murdered the security at the Chinese embassy in an attempt to kidnap him. They were dead, because of _him._ They were dead, because of the _Decepticons._

Megatron was a warmonger. He took what he wanted, whether it belonged to him or not. He would raze the whole planet, just to have Jack to himself. And he would be nothing more than another prize in the sadist’s collection.

_“Do you truly think you are his first pet?"_

Airachnid was a liar, Soundwave refuted.

_“There was Soundwave.”_

The soothing strokes along Jack’s spine stopped. 

Soundwave was no _pet._

“You were Megatron’s,” the human recalled. “He forced you to join the Decepticons!”

The words had barely left his mouth before the cold returned with a vengeance. All of Jack’s senses were muted, like he was thrown in a frozen lake. He could feel thousands of needles stabbing him at once. The horrible sensation was muted as his thoughts were twisted in a way he did not want.

Megatron _saved_ Soundwave! Sentinel Zeta Prime used him, tortured him! He was nothing more than the tyrant’s entertainment. Megatron gave him a life, a purpose! He was granted _freedom_!

Jack was drowning. He couldn’t breathe. He desperately tried to search for the surface, but he did not know which direction to go. His surroundings were nothing more than a blur of color. He thought he saw a flash of yellow, but he was not sure.

Why was he making things so difficult? Megatron was trying to save him, and yet he continued to slap the lord’s servo away.

Jack winced as a chilling servo wrapped around his torso. He was plucked up from the ground, like he was no more than a doll. A silver blur appeared at the edge of the boy’s vision, but he could not make it out. So he shut his eyes, trying to straighten his skewed mind. No. Megatron was trying to steal his freedom.

The Decepticon’s grip tightened. Jack wheezed.

It was the Autobots that were the thieves. It was not enough for them to rob their homeworld of life itself, but the innocence of a _child_. They ripped Jack away from his solace. They threw him into their war of pillaging energon mines. They left him to be _tortured_.

Unwanted images flashed across Jack’s vision, so he forced his eyes open to a glimmer of white. He wiggled against Soundwave's freezing hold. He could see remnants of warm memories.

Of him and Miko and Raf together. Of him and Arcee driving across the salt flats. Of him fighting to protect his home. Before the Autobots, he was nothing more than dust drifting through the wind. With them, he was not alone. He had a _purpose_.

He only wished he realized it sooner.

Finally, Jack pulled his consciousness free from the heavy grip of Soundwave’s mind. He took a gasp of air, just enough to breathe out, “Y-y-you’re wrong… They g-g-gave me a _life_!”

At his croaked shout, a thrum of a charged cannon filled the air. Bile rose in Jack’s throat as Soundwave whirled around, only to let out a feral, cat-like hiss.

“Put. The kid. _Down,_ ” demanded Wheeljack, his glare boring right through the Decepticon’s visor.

 _/“He is mine,”/_ Megatron’s growl retorted. Then Soundwave added with an unknown voice, probably a drone’s, _/“Auto-scum!”/_

“I respectfully disagree with that.”

His tone was anything but respectful. Jack braced for the killing blow, but it never came. Without warning, there was an ear-splitting screech. A silver blob appeared from behind Wheeljack and attached to his shoulder. The Wrecker yowled, servos flying up to dislodge Ravage’s fangs from his plating. 

Soundwave took advantage of the distraction. Tucking a still winded Jack in his wing-blade arms, he whirled around and retreated in the other direction. Only for Sideswipe to materialize from behind the ruined Humvee. The wheeled Autobot leaped over the obstacle like a skateboarder, landing with a spin to swing his sword at the Decepticon. Soundwave expertly raised his arm to block the attack, a resounding _clang_ echoing through the air. 

Just then, Jack peered through his captor’s fingers to see the yellow form of Bumblebee dart forward, tackling into the mech’s legs. Soundwave was far taller, and thus larger, than the young ‘Bot, but with his compromised balance, he failed to stay upright. The imprisoned human let out an undignified squeal as the world panned, only to halt with a jarring lurch. The impact was powerful enough to send him tumbling out of Soundwave’s grasp.

_/“Jack!”/_

It was a voice the boy did not recognize, laced with static, so it took him a moment to realize it was Bumblebee speaking through radio frequencies. The Autobot was diving towards him, like a football player reaching for a fumble. Only to be interrupted by an angry shriek.

Laserbeak flew into Jack’s view, wings spread and talons extended. Bumblebee let out a string of high-pitched bleeps as the flyer assaulted his face. He waved his hands like he was trying to swat a fly, only he never hit his target. In a blink of an eye, data-cables ejected from Soundwave’s torso and wrapped around Bumblebee’s limbs. Then with a snap of his tendrils, the Decepticon flung him away, right into Sideswipe. The Autobots went sprawling across the ground with joined cries.

Jack didn’t even register he was backwards crawling from the scene until suddenly Soundwave whipped around again and he was greeted with the sight of his own reflection. It reminded him of the picture he saw upon the spymaster’s visor at the satellite relay, so long ago. He looked nearly the same—wide-eyed and terrified. Except now, his face had lost any sort of roundness made of lingering fat. Instead, it was thin and chiseled with muscle. His pale skin interrupted with scars, fresh wounds, and blood. If he didn’t know if it was a mirror, Jack wouldn’t recognize the person he was staring at.

The image vanished when suddenly a pained yowled filled the air. The human followed Soundwave’s gaze to see Ravage trapped underneath Wheeljack’s weight. One of the Autobot’s sword skewered his haunches, pinning him to the ground. A blue glow illuminated the barrel of Wheeljack’s cannons. He fired before Soundwave had a chance to react.

There was an explosion of fire and smoke as the bolt of energon collided into the Decepticon’s chest. The force of the attack was enough to send him flying back, skidding across the ground until he came to a halt. Jack had to lift his arm to shield himself from the shower of dirt.

“Kid, get out of here!” Wheeljack roared. “We’ll keep this creep busy.”

For a long moment, Jack could only stare. Once again his mind and heart were torn. His heart pleaded for him to stay, to help, to do _something_. Yet his mind screamed at him, demanding that he run. Away from all the bloodshed, the chaos. Away from those who only wanted to hurt him.

Eventually the latter won.

Jack flipped himself over onto all fours. Fresh adrenaline pumping through the veins, it gave him enough strength to climb to his feet. In the corner of his vision, he saw Soundwave doing the same. There was the churning of gears as the Decepticon rose to his full height. But rather than pouncing on the human, he turned to brace against another onslaught, this time from both Sideswipe and Bumblebee.

The dual volley of punches and kicks kept Soundwave distracted long enough for Jack to reach the crest of the hill. With a final glimpse of the disaster he had caused, the teenager fled.


End file.
